}Swwsvi<a^*iijnury; 




Glass, 
Book 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



r 






THE LiP' 


ipv OF 


CONGRE 


.SS. 


One Copy R 


eCEIVEO 


AUG. 22 


1902 


COPVUIOHT 


fNTOY 


CLASS Qx> 


^(f07~ 


Xc. No. 


J9^ 


^r 


COPY 


B. 



Copyright, i886 
By J. L. BLAMIRE 



Copyright, 1 902 
By GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, Limited 



f' O O » • • 



PREFACE 



^TXITH more of an historical than a purely biog-raphical purpose, and under a 
title more typical than literal, One Hundred Famous Americans aims 
to present a series of brief and interesting- sketches of some of the greatest men 
and women of America — to group them by the callings in which their most 
important work has been done, to describe the events of their lives; to tell 
what they have been to their companions, to their professions, and to the great 
interests of their nation and the world at large — setting forth from different 
standpoints their influence upon their own times and the future. The endeavor 
has been to tell the stories of these great lives fairly and truthfully, omitting 
for the most part all anecdotes and purely personal matters, while making clear 
the distinguishing traits of each individual, not only as an individual, but also 
as a successful follower of his or her vocation. In this way some idea has also 
been given, it is hoped, of the most notable achievements in the history of the 
various professions here represented. It is not claimed that this selection 
forms a perfect list of our greatest men and women : many names having been 
omitted that rank with those given ; but even in the wide difference of opinion 
existing upon the merits of fame, it is believed that the characters herein 
described will be found to be a fair representation of those who have had the 
strongest influence upon our history. The compiler has been much aided in mak- 
ing the selection by the advice — most generously bestowed — of several authors 
and professional men of noted judgment. An attempt to bring this subject 



iv Preface. 

within the compass of one volume must leave very much unsaid ; but the object 
of this book will be met if it gives some sort of connected and graphic account 
of those Avho have done great work in or for our country, and if it can pre- 
sent this information in a way that will interest young people and broaden 
their ideas of life and history. The care with which the selections herein have 
been made receives indorsement in the fact that all the names of those chosen as 
worthy of commemoration in the Hall of Fame for great Americans find a place 
in this volume. A paper on the Hall of Fame, by Chancellor Henry Mitchell 
MacCracken, of the New York University, is also included. The illustrations 
have been taken from photographs and historical portraits, models, or the real ob- 
jects. Thanks are due to Messrs. Harper & Brothers for permission to use the 
illustrations of Asher Brown Durand and Elias Haskett Derby. 

Helen Ainslie Smith. 

New York City. 



CONTENTS. 



Inventors 1 

Early Statesmen and Orators 41 

Later Statesmen and Orators 78 

Lawyers 118 

Early Military and Naval Commanders. 139 

Military and Naval Commanders of the Civil War 175 

Pioneers and Explorers = 201 

Reformers and Philanthropists 252 

Eminent Divines 284 

Physicians and Surgeons . . 315 

Scholars and Teachers 343 

Historians and Novelists 376 

Poets and Essayists 404 

Editors and Journalists 43S 

Distinguished Artists 467 

Business Men 513 



/ V 



LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 



^Adams, John, 59. 
Agassiz, Louis J. R. , 369. 
Anderson, Alexandei', 503. 
Appleton, Daniel, 551. 
Appleton, William H., 553. 
Astor, John Jacob, 519. 
Astoi" Libraiy, 531. 
Atlantic Telegraph Cable (1866), 20. 
Audubon, John James, 353. 

Bancroft, George, 385. 
Beecher, Henry Ward, 311. 
Bennett, James G., 443. 
Blanchard, Thomas, 15. 
Boone, Daniel, 215. 
Booth, Edwin, 479. 
Brown, John, 261. 
Bryant, William C, 405. 

Calhoun, John Caldwell, 91. 
Carey, Henry Charles, 99. 
Chase, Salmon Portland, 111. 
Chickering, Jonas, 535. 
Childs, George W., 465. 
Clay, Henry, 79. 
Clinton, De Witt, 77. 
.L^ooper, J. Fenimore, 393. 
Cooper, Peter, 281. 
Dooper Union, 283. 
Copley, John S., 485. 
Cotton-Gin, 3. 
Curtis, George W., 461. 
Cushman, Chai'lotte, 475. 



Dana, Charles A., 457. 
Dana, James D wight, 359. 
Decatur, Stephen, 167. 
Derby, Elias H., 515. 
Durand, Asher B., 497. 
D wight, Timothy, 297. 

Edison, Thomas Alva, 35. 
Edwards, Jonathan, 391. 
Emerson, Ealph W., 427. 
Ericsson, John, 9. 
Evarts, William Maxwell, 138. 
Everett, Edward, 95. 

Farragut, David Glascoe, 199. 

Forrest, Edwin, 473. 

Franklin, Benjamin, 41. 

Franklin Press, 38. 

Franklin's " Art of Making Money," 45. 

Fremont, John Charles, 325. 

Fulton, Robert, 5. 

Garrison, William Lloyd, 253. 
Girard, Stephen, 371. 
Goodj^ear, Charles, 23. 
Grant, Ulysses Simpson, 181. 
Greeley, Horace, 451. 
Greene, Nathaniel, 147. 

Hale, Nathan, 439. 
Hamilton, Alexander, 53. 
Harper, Fletcher, 550. 



Vlll 

Harper, James, 545. 
Harper, John, 547. 
Harper, Joseph W., 549. 
Hayes, Isaac Israel, 343. 
Hayne, Robert Youug, 89. 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 397. 
Henry, Joseph, 363. 
Henry, Patrick, 67. 
Hoe's Printing-Presses, 39. 
Holmes, Oliver W., 421. 
Howe, Elias, 33. 
Huglies, John Joseph, 303. 

Irving, Washington, 389. 

Jackson, Andrew, 157, 
Jackson, Thomas Jonathan, 193 
Jefferson, Joseph, 481. 
Jefferson, Thomas, 69. 
Jones, John Paul, 153. 



List of Illustrations. \ 



/ 

/ 



Kane, Elisha Kent, 237. 
Kent, James, 125. 
Lawrence, Abbott, 527. 
Lee, Robert Edmund, 189. 
Lincoln, Abraham, 105. 
Longfellow, Henry W., 409. 
Lowell, James R., 423. 

Machine for Printing Paper-Hangings, 40. 
Mann, Horace, 269. 
Mai-sbaU, John, 119. 
Mason, Lowell, 469. 
Matlier, Cotton, 289. 
Maury, Matthew F., 367. 
McClellan, George Brinton, 177. 
McCormick, Cyrus Hall, 27. 
McCormick Reapei', 29. 
Morris, Robert, 47. 
Morse, Samuel F. B., 17. 
Morse's Recording Telegraph, 18. 
Transmitting Key, 18, 
Plate, 19. 
Motley, John L., 383. 
Mott, Lucretia, 263. 
Murray, Lindley, 345. 



/' 



O'Conor, Charles, 137. 

Peabody, George, 277. 

Penn, William, 211. 

Perry, Oliver Hazard, 171. 

PhUlips, V\^endell, 259. 

Physick, Philip Syng, 321, 

Pinkney, William, 123. 

Poe, Edgar Allan, 413. 

Powers, Hiram, 507. 

Prescott, William H., 377. 

Priu ting-Press used by Franklin, 43. 

Rush, Benjamin, 317. 

Scott, Winfield, 161. 
Seward, William Henry, 115. 
Sherman, William Tecumseh, 187. 
Silliman, Benjamin, 357. 
Smith, Captain John, 203. 
Stanton, Edwin M., 109. 
Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, 267. 
Steamer "Clermont," 7. 
Stewart, Alexander T., 543. 
Story, Joseph, 127. 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 401. 
Stuart, Gilbert, 491. 
Sumner, Charles, 133. 

Tappan, Lewis, 539. 

The Breaking of the Cable, 21. 

The " Great Eastern" at Anchor, 22. 

The "Monitor," 11. 

Thompson, Benjamin, 347. 

Vanderbilt, Cornelius, 529. 

Washington, George, 139. 
Webster, Daniel, 83. 
Webster, Noah, 435. 
Wells, Horace, 333. 
Whitney, Eli, 1. 
Whittier, Jolin G., 417. 
Williams, Roger, 209. 
Wilson, Alexander, 351. 



ONE HUNDRED FAMOUS AMERICANS. 



INVENTORS. 




T^ 



^HE American people are noted for in- 
ventive genius, love of experiment, 
and a desire to find out new and better 
ways of doing- things. We are often ridi- 
culed for these traits, but it is due to them 
more than to anything else that diuing 
our first century as a nation the often-de- 
spised republic of the New World has been 
raised to an honorable place among the 
foremost of poAvers. The " Yankee inven- 
tions " that people laughed at, and the 
" American ingenuity " of which the^' 
made a b^-word, have been steadily at 
work developmg" the resources of our great 
country, making easy to accomi^lish what 
was before thought impossible, and giving 
to the whole world some of the most valu- 
able discoveries of the age. 

American genius and American enter- 
prise have brought forth more mventions and improvements, both in number 
and in importance, than any other nation in this or any other century m modern 
history. They have changed home life and business life all over the world. 
There is scarcely a branch of trade or manufacture that has not been greatly 
altered by them; travel by land and water has grown to be a marvel of com- 
fort and quickness that was not even imagined a century ago ; and the lightnin 
force of electricity has been so brought under the power of man that he can 



Eli Whitney. 






2 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

use it to send instant messag-es around the g-lobe, to talk with people hundreds 
of miles away, to light a building- or a city ahnost as brightly as the sun, and 
for a hundred other usefid purposes. 

Even art has been aideil and eari-ied forward by this mechanical ingenuity, 
and science — itself often the inventor's greatest help — has received wonderful 
additions and reached some of its l)est results in modern times, through the 
patient work of the ingenious tind experimenting American mind. 

The flrst name upon om- record of inventors is that of Eli Whitney, whose 
idea of the cotton-gin is yc^t li\iiig in the many hundreds of but sliglitly altered 
and improved machines that now prepai'e for market over four million bales of 
cotton per year ; for America produces larger quantities and a better quality of 
cotton than any other country in the world. 

Mr. Whitney lived during the latter half of the last century and the first quar- 
ter of this. He was born ten years before the United States became a nation, 
and while our patriots were lighting for independence he was a lad, working on 
his father's farm, mending violins for neighbors far and near, making canes, hat- 
pins, and nails; visiting all the machine-shops he could get to, and studying for 
Yale College. He was a bright, industrious fellow, Avith a good deal of skill, so 
that he paid his way through college by doing jobs of mechanical work and by 
teachuig school. 

After the college course was over he started South to teach in a Georgia 
family. But when he reached the place another tutor had already been engaged, 
and young Mr. Whitney found himself away from home with no business and very 
little money. But he was not quite friendless, for he had made the acquaint- 
ance of General Greene's widow, who was so much pleased with him that she 
urged him to stay in Savannah and keep up his studies, inviting him to make her 
house his home. He accepted her invitation, and began to teach her childi-en and 
to read law. But Mrs. Greene soon saw that he was more interested in machin- 
ery and making useful inventions than in his legal studies. She noticed his clever- 
ness in rigging up embroidery frames and other things, and firmly believed that 
he could invent a machine so much wanted then for picking cotton, for in those 
days the short-stapled raw cotton that grew in the Southern States had to be all 
picked over by hand to separate the hard, bean-like seeds fi-om th(5 fluffy masses 
of lint, and one pound was about all that a good worker could pi'epare in a day. 
Thei-e was a rude roller-gin made in England that prepared the kind called 
long-stapled cotton for market, by crushing the seeds and then "bowing" or 
whippmg the dii't out of the lint. Mi's. Greene, like a great many other people, 
felt that there ought to be a better machine than this, which could do the work 
of the hand-pickers in a much shorter time. She talked it over with her planter 



Eli Wliitney. 



friends, telling- tliem that Mr. Wliitney "could make aiiytliiii^-," and showing- 
them some of his ing-enious work, till they finally induced the young man to try 
his skill upon a gin. He began by fii'st watching the pickers ; then he formed 
an idea of how a machine might do the same work, and finally he began to build 
the saw-gin ; he had to make his own tools a-nd even draw his own wire, but when 
it was done it was perfect; and, while a great many improvements of various 
kinds have been made in it, the cotton-gin now used is really the same as that 
which came from Eli Whitney's hands in ITD!). 

The plan of this machine, which has done such wonders for American industry, 
is a grid or net-work 
of wii'cs, with a set of 
cir'cular saws arranged 
behintl it so that the 
teeth of the saws pro- 
ject through the net- 
work as they turn. 
When the lint is laid 
on the gi'id and the 
machine set in motion, 
the sharp teeth of the 
saws catch the lint, 
tearing it olf and drag- 
ging it through the net- 



work, leaving behind 
tfie seeds which are 
not able to pass, but 
.slide down the grid out 
of tlie way, as soon as 
they are free from the 
cotton. A simple re- Cotton-gin. 

volving brush sweeps 

the lint from the saws before they turn far enough to carry it back to the grid. 
The model of this was made in a few months, and to please his friend, Mr. Wliit- 
ney consented to show it to a company of Mrs. Greene's guests, mostly planters. 
They were very much interested and even excited when the.>- found that one per- 
son at this machine could separate more cotton from the seed in one day than 
could be done in the old way in many months. The report spread quickly through 
the South, and many people wanted to see the wonderful invention, but Mr. Whit- 
ney i-efused to show it, because it was not yet perfected, and because he wished 




4 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

to patent it before it was made public. But the excitement grew so great, that 
some dislionorable people broke into his workshop one night, stole the model, and 
got out several machines on much the same plan, so that he was almost entirely 
defrauded from any reward for his labor, although it chang-ed the whole indus- 
trial history of the nation, and was so perfect that but little improvement has 
ever been made in it. A slave who could pick a pound of cotton a day by hand 
now prepared a thousand pounds a day. The planters who had had to let acres 
of fields lie waste, because they could not grow on them indigo, rice, tar, nor 
tobacco, and because they were then raising as much cotton as their slaves could 
pick, now began to raise enormous quantities of the plant. Before this gin was 
invented there were less than tw^o hundred thousand pounds shipped yearly. A 
few years after, over seventeen million pounds were sent out, and the j^ear before 
the Civil War, it was over two billion pounds. 

Cotton became the one great power in the South, bi'inging wealth, industry, 
and commercial importance to the newly-formed nation. But it also gave woi-k 
to a great many more men and women, and instead of slavery dying out in the 
South, as it had begun to do in the North, it grew stronger very fast. Planters, 
traders, manufacturers, and the thieves who stole the gin model flouiished and 
made money, while the inventor received nothing. He claimed his right before 
the courts m Georgia, and the juries decided in favor of the thieves ; and about 
all that he ever got was fifty thousand dollars paid him for the patent by the 
Legislature of South Carolina, eleven years after the model was made. 

After trying in vain for five 3^ears even to get a livmg from the invention 
already bringmg wealth to others, Mr. Whitney went to New Haven, Connecti- 
cut, and, at the foot of East Rock, he set up factories for makuig fire-arms for 
the Government. He was very successful in this, and beside making a fortune, 
so greatly improved the machinery and methods of the business, that our country 
owes to him a second debt of gratitude. It was he who first divided factory labor 
so that each part should be made separately, a S3^stem which is now used m 
nearly all branches of manufacturing. 

Mr. Whitney was born in Westborough, Massachusetts, December 8, 1765. 
He died in New Haven, Connecticut, January 8, 1825. 

About the time that Whitney invented the cotton-gin, liobert Fulton, a 
young American painter studying in England, decided to give up art for the sake 
of becoming a civil engineer. The j^oung men, whose names are now often men- 
tioned together as the two greatest of early American inventors, were of exactly 
the same age, one a New Englander in Georgia, the other a Pennsylvanian in 
England. 



Robert Fulton. 



Fulton had been away from home ever since he was twenty-two years old, and 
had spent a large part of his tune m studying- art with Benjamin West, a famous 




Robert Fulton. 



American painter, whose house in London was always a center for young artists 
from the master's native land. But, after several years of study, Fulton felt 
sure that his best work would .be in engineering rather than art, and he soon 



6 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

proved his ability by making- a number of useful inventions that were patented, b}' 
jobs of civil engineering-,- and writing a work on " Canal Navigation," which was 
then a matter of great intei-est in Europe. In 1797 — that is, when Fulton was 
thirty-two years old — the American Minister to the court of France, Mr, Joel 
Barlow, invited him to go to Paris and live in his family. Fulton accepted the 
invitation, and made his home in the French capital for seven j^ears. These were 
spent in making- experiments and inventions, in managing the first panorama ever 
shown in the brilliant city, and in studying sciences and languages. He was 
making up for the scant education of boyhood, for Fulton's parents were so poor 
that he had been put to the jeweler's trade when very young. His extra time 
had been given to drawing and painting instead of books, and almost all the 
money he had earned by selling his portraits and landscapes he used to buy a 
little farm in Pennsylvania and settle his widowed mother comfortably^ before he 
left home. 

In Philadelphia he had the friendship of Franklin — then a venerable old gen- 
tleman of about eighty years ; in England he had spent much time with some of 
the g-reat scientific men, and in France his genius and his noble character won 
friends for him among the best people in the countiy. His thin, active figure, 
his fine head and dark eyes were well known among them, too; and among the 
people who understood him he was always looked up to ; he had already received 
several medals and honors, and, what was worth more, the s^mipathy and con- 
fidence of many persons of influence. 

About this time there was a great deal of interest and many experiments upon 
the use of steam for propelling boats. A number of efforts had been made, but 
no real success was gained, until Fulton built a small steamboat, which was tried 
on the Seine and worked well, but was slow. Soon after, he and his helper and 
friend. Chancellor Livingston, came to New York, and ordered of Bolton & Watt, 
the great English engine-builders, an engine, with which they began to experi- 
ment upon steamboats for use upon American waters. For many years Fulton 
had been thmking and writing about this subject, studying up all that had already 
been discovered about it, and watching every new experiment that was made, and 
laboring with greatest energy to bring his own ideas to perfection and into prac- 
tical form, for he felt that such a deed would be of the greatest benefit, not only 
to Americans upon our great lakes and rivers, but to the world. Month after 
month he worked and tried his little side-wheel craft, until finally he was sure 
beyond a doubt that he had found out the secret of moving a boat by steam. 

When everything was ready, an announcement was made in the New York 
papers, that people wishing to go to Albany might take passage in the Clermont, 
which would leave the foot of Cortlandt Street, on the Hudson River, Friday 



Robert Fulton. 7 

morning", August 4, 1807. Everybody read this notice and was interested and 
tiilked about it ; but only twelve people took passage, for it was generally agreed 
that one could scarcely do a more risk^^ thing than trust his life to that great, 
new-fangled boat with a fire machine inside of it. Many people had never seen 
a oteam-engine, and did not know anything about it, and, while a few gave Ful- 
ton their aid and encouragement, a great many thouglit him ridiculous. Still, 
there was a great deal of curiosity about his experiment, and crowds thronged 
the wharves, piers, and housetops, and almost the whole water-front of the city, 




Clermont. 

and much of the river-banks through the country, long before the vessel started. 
All along her route there was the greatest excitement; hats and handkerchiefs 
were waved and shouts of praise greeted the ears of captain, crew, and passen- 
gers, for the Clermont was a success, steam navigation was a reality, and Robert 
Fulton was a great man. The voyage from New York to Albany, a distance 
of a hundred and fifty miles, was made, against wind and tide, in thirty-two 
hours, and the return trip in thirty. There was a light breeze against hci- both 
ways, so th:^t there was no use for the sails, and the voyage was made wholly by 
the power of the steam-engine. Regidar trips were now made two or three times 
a week, and in a short time many other boats, built under Fulton's direction, were 



8 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

pl3ing" their way back and forth on the American rivers, while he still labored oil 
to make more perfect the machinery of his great invention. 

His fame and success were now firmly assured, and as long- as he lived he was 
emplo^'ed by the United States Government upon steamboats, canals, and other 
engineering- connected with navigation. The torpedoes, or war instruments for 
blowing up vessels by exploding under water, which he had invented and showed 
without success to the governments of Europe, were now improved and accepted 
by his own nation, and seven j^ears after the ClermonVs first trip. Congress set 
aside three hundred and twent^^ thousand dollars for a steam frigate or ship of 
war to be buUt under Fulton's direction. This was the greatest delight of the 
noble inventor's life. The work was finished the next year, and the Fulton suc- 
cessfully launched. But it was left for the great Swede, John Ericsson, as an 
adopted son of America, to bring naval warfare to its present high state of per- 
fection. 

Hard and steady work, the anxious care and losses of money in lawsuits began 
to affect Mr. Fulton's health, and he died while 3^et in the prime of life and in the 
midst of his great successes. 

It has been said that no American mechanic has ever lived who had such good 
taste and so earnest a public spirit as Fulton ; while in France he wrote letters to 
Carnot to persuade him to adopt the principles of free trade ; he urged the people 
of Philadelphia to buy West's pictures to start an American art gallery, and 
when this failed he bought two of the best himself, that America might hold some 
of the work of her first artist ; and these with his other art j)ossessions were willed 
to the Academy of New York. He encouraged and aided American talent wher- 
ever he could, and while carrying on great studies and experiments upon his 
steamboat and torpedo, he still found time for planning out a cable-cutter, floating 
docks, and many other schemes for the advancement of enterprise in his native 
country. He had a noble, patient spirit, keeping cheerful through all discourage- 
ments and overcoming everything that stood in his way ; and he wa s so modest and 
quiet with it all, that few of his countrymen knew what a great man he was until 
they felt the sudden shock of his death. 

Mr. Fulton was born in Little Britain, Pennsylvania, in the year 1765. He 
died in New York, the 34th of February, 1815. 

Although John Ericsson was born and brought up in the beautiful valleys of 
Central Sweden, and lived for thirteen years in England before he came to America 
— which was in 1840 — he was a citizen of the United States for almost half a 
century; he did the greater part of his work here, and it was due to. his genius 
that the London Times could say many years ago that " the plain truth was 



John Ericsson. 9 

that the United States alone, among- all the nations of the earth, had an iron-clad 
fleet worthy of the name." 

The first ship Mr. Ericsson built for America was the famous Princeton, "a 
gimcrack of sundry inventions ' ' that opened a new era in naval warfare for the 




John Ericsson. 

whole world. In the first place, it moved in the water by means of a propeller 
instead of the paddle or side wheels invented by Fulton. It was this invention 
which brought Mr. Ericsson to America, for the British Admmalty would take no 
notice of it, and our consul to Liverpool, Captain Robert F. Stockton, of the 
Navy, encourag-ed him to appeal to the United States, which he did with success. 



10 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

In the Princeton, the propelling- machinery — a simple, direct-acting steam- 
engine, smaller than any eng"ines of the same power ever used before — and the 
boilers were for the first time built below the water-line, out of reach of shot. She 
had also many other new contrivances that attracted a great deal of notice. 
Among- them were furnaces and Hues arrang-ed to burn either hard or soft coal 
and to save a large amount of fuel , a sliding- telescope smoke-stack , gun car- 
riag-es with machinery for checking- the g-un as it bounds backward or recoils after 
a discharge , self-acting locks, by which g-uns are fired in the rig-ht direction, no 
matter what the motion of the vessel may be; and an instrument for finding out 
in a moment how far the ship is from any object. 

Altog-ether, the Princeton's trial trip proved her a g-rand success. The pro- 
peller alone was such a g-reat improvement that in a few years it completely 
chang-ed the methods of ship-building-, both for merchant service and for war. But 
the new era opened by this remarkable ship had a sad beginning-, for the grand 
affair of her public exhibition was scarcely over, when Captain Stockton's " Peace- 
maker," one of her g-reat g-uns, burst with a terrible explosion that killed two of 
the Secretaries in President Tyler's Cabinet, a Commodore in the Navy, and a 
number of other persons. 

It had been due to Captain Stockton's efforts that the Government had ordered 
the Princeton, and he had watched the work upon her from the first, and when this 
accident happened to one of his own expei-iments with large cannon, it was almost 
as fatal to Mr. Ericsson's work for the Navy as to the unfortunate men who stood 
too near the g-un. Seventeen years later, still unpaid by Congress and disap- 
pointed as he was, he had hard work to persuade the Government to accept 
his iron-clad Monitor, even when we were in g-reat need of some sort of powerful 
war-ship. At last he succeeded, and the much-derided "cheese-box on a plank" 
went down to Hampton Roads on the 8th of March, in the second year of the 
Civil War, and the next day had all the world speaking- its praise for having- 
defeated and blockaded the more pretentious iron-clad, the Mei^inmac. This prob- 
ably saved the Union side from losing- the war, for the Merrimac was a terrible 
thing against the Northern fleet, and was in a fair way to destroy the whole Nav^^ 
when the Monitor met and "whipped" her. The Government then ordered of 
Mr. Ericsson six more such vessels, called monitors after the first of their kind, 
and in a short time the United States had the best navy in the world. The Con- 
federates followed the example, and other nations beg-an at once to give up wooden 
ships, and build iron ones, so that the victory at Hampton Roads caused the mak- 
ing over of the navies of all countries. 

In later years, some of Captain Ericsson's most important work was in invent- 
ing and im.proving methods of submarine or under-water warfare, especially in 



John Ericsson. 



11 



the shells called torpedoes ; for it was thought that even the monitors would soon 
be displaced hj another kind of naval vessel. 

While no one did more than he in making use of steam, a large part of this 
great inventor's life was also given to experimenting with heat, so as to make use 
of it for a motor or moving power. 

Long- years of hard and patient work have been put upon the caloric engine, 




Monitor. 

and large sums of money were spent upon his caloric ship, the Ericsson, which 
made a successful trip from New York to Washington in the winter of '51. It 
cost a great deal of money, furnished by New York men, but it only proved that 
heated air cannot furnish, in large quantities, anything like the power of steam. 
This had long been an undecided question, but as soon as the lunits of the caloric 
engine were proved the field was open for the great perfections that have since 
been made in the use of steam.. But the caloric engine is far from a useless in- 



12 One Hundred Famous Arnericans. 

vention ; it is of great service when a small amount of power is wanted, and noth- 
ing can take its place in circumstances where water cannot be obtained. While at 
work upon it Mr. Ericsson made many discoveries and showed many facts about 
heat w^hich have been acknowledged as of great value to science. 

The caloric engine was first brought before the public in 1833, and was the re- 
sult of the most important studies of the great inventor's life, proving " that heat 
is an agent which undergoes no change, and that only a small portion of it disap- 
pears in exerting the mechanical force developed by our steam-engines." The in- 
vention attracted much interest among the leading scientists of the time, and some 
of the greatest scholars in London gave lectures to explain it to the people. 

The latter part of Mr. Ericsson's life, which was spent in New York, was 
given to the perfection of the solar engine and to study and experiment toward 
making use of the heat sent out by the burning- sands of the great rainless regions 
of both the Old and the New Worlds. This contains a vast amount of power 
which is now wasted, for it neither gives life nor keeps it, but makes what might 
be fair and lovely gardens into desolate stretches of barren earth. 

The list of inventions and practical experiments that he made during the first 
ten years of his stay here would do credit to the ability of a whole society. Most 
of them were shown in the United States division of the London Industrial Exhi- 
bition in 1851, and received the prize medal of the Exliibition. 

The best known and most impoi'tant among the inventions Mr. Ericsson made, 
during the thirteen years he spent in England, were a new kind of piniiping-ma- 
chine, engines with surface condensers and no smoke-stack, blowers suppl3^ing- the 
draft applied to a steamship, and an engine made of a hollow drum, which is 
rotated or turned by letting in steam, and continues to rotate, for some hours after 
shutting off the steam, at the rate of nine hundred feet per second at the circum- 
ference, or the speed of London moving around the axis of the globe. He also 
made an apparatus for making salt from brine, built machinery for propelling 
boats on canals, a variety of motors run by steam or hot air, a hydrostatic engine, 
to which the Society of Arts awarded a prize ; an instrument now used a great 
deal in taking soundings without the length of the led line, a file-cutting machine 
and a number of others, malang in all about fourteen patented inventions and 
forty new machines. 

He also was the first to practically apply the principle of condensing steam and 
returning the fresh water to the boiler, and, later, to apply the centrifugal fan- 
blowers now used in most of the steam-vessels in the United States. A couple of 
years later he built a steam-engine on the Regent's Canal Basin, in which steam 
was first superheated, as four years before he had first used the link motion for 
reversing steam-engines. This was while he was living in England, before he 



Thomas J. Rodman. 13 

came to America. He was one of the most important competitors in the famous 
locomotive contest on the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad, when George 
Stephenson's Rocket took the prize on account of its power to draw loads. Erics- 
son's engine, the Novelty, made thu^ty miles an hour, while the call was for only 
ten. It has been wrong-ly stated that the Novelty broke down on this trip. A 
leather diaphragm of the blowing-machine split, and some of the pipe joints gave 
out, both of which were easily fixed. 

While at work on these mventions, Mr. Ericsson showed some new facts 
about steam, which led to its use in ways unthought of before ; one of the most 
important being the steam fire-engine, which so astonished London and the world 
at the burning of the Argyle Rooms in 1829. This was " the first time that fire 
was ever put out by the mechanical power of fire." 

It would fill a good-sized book to give the shortest kind of a description of the 
many practical inventions and improvements which Mr. Ericsson made, to say 
nothing of the very great amount of knowledge his studies and experiments 
have added to science. His work has been recognized and his name honored 
all over the world ; if he had wished, he could have written after his signature 
scores of learned and knightly titles which were conferred upon him by the 
Crown in his native land and by the great scientific societies of Europe and 
America. 

His life in the roomy old house in Beech Street, New York, was filled with 
long hours of hard work for many years, his plan being to divide his time so as 
to make the most of every day, not for pleasures or friends, but for science and 
experiments in the great work of his life. 

Captain Ericsson was born in Langbanshyttan, Sweden, on the 31st of July, 
1803. He died in New York, on the 7th of March, 1889. 

The methods of warfare have been improved very much also by General 
Thomas J. Hodman, who graduated from West Point the year after Captain 
Ericsson came to America. General Rodman invented the fifteen-inch and 
twenty-inch smooth-bore guns, made by hollow casting, and he was the first in 
the world to make a powder which could be used in larg-e cannon. He noticed 
that powder would burn slowly or rapidly according as the amount of one ma- 
terial or another was made more or less — that is, according to the relative pro- 
portion of the ingredients — and uiDon this idea he made many experiments with 
powders. Seven years before the war broke out, he found the proper way to 
mix the parts so as to form a powder that could be used in modern artillery. 
This is called the Rodman powder ; it was used in the heavy guns of the war, 
and was adopted in Europe as soon as the discovery became known. The Eng- 



14 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

lish pebble and pellet powders, and the Russian prismatic powder, have all been 
made after the same idea. 

General Rodman was born in Indiana in 1818, and died in 1871. 

It has been said that Thomas Blanchard has probably given the world more 
labor-saving- machines, which can be put to a greater number of uses and have 
done more for the common wants of life, than any other man either in this country 
or Europe. 

Mr. Blanchard was born on a farm in Sutton, Massachusetts, when Whitney 
and Fulton were young men of twentj^- three. In 1806, when the Clermont was 
being built, this third great American inventor was a 3'outh of eighteen, begin- 
ning life in his brother's machine-shop at West Millbury. Thomas's work was 
to put heads on tacks by hand, but within a few months after he learned to do 
it, he designed, made, and got to working a machine to make the tacks. It 
turned them out entire, at one motion, faster than the ticking of a watch and 
more finished than those made by hand. 

This machine was kept in use over twenty j^ears, and though many others 
were built after it, no necessary improvement has ever been made upon it. After 
a while he sold it for five thousand dollars, which seemed to him a large fortune, 
and, building a shop, fitted it with tools, and shut himself up for two years to 
work out the one idea of devising a machine Avhich should turn the whole of a 
gun-stock. This had long been tried in vain at most of the armories of the 
world, and was the greatest want in gun manufacture. Thomas heard of it ac- 
cidentally from the proprietor of the extensive shops below Millbury, who, hear- 
ing of the young genius of the tack-machine, sent for him to see if he could think 
of some way of making their machine for filing the ironwork of guns into 
shape run smoothly. When the gentleman saw the bashful, stammering young- 
man, he had little hopes of any help from him. But he showed him the machine 
and explained the difticulty. After looking at it for a few moments, Thomas 
began a low, monotonous whistle, which he always made when studying deeply, 
and before long he suggested adding a very simple cam motion, which proved just 
the thing wanted. The proprietor of the armory Avas delighted, and exclaimed : 
" AVell, Thomas, I don't know what you won't do next. I would not be sur- 
prised if you turned a gun-stock." As this is neither round nor straight in any 
part, a machine for turning it had long been thought an impossibility, so every- 
body round was surprised when Thomas gave another low whistle and stammered 
out : '' We-we-well, I'll try that." The workmen all laughed, but Thomas was 
in earnest, and began at once to think out the machine. He already had the first 
prmciple of it in the cam motion, and not long after he worked out the whole idea 



Thomas Blanchard. 



15 



clearly in his mind. He was riding- home alone from the Spring-field armory, to 
which he had been called to make an adjustment to the butt-filing- machine like 
that at Millbury, deep in thoug-ht, when suddenly some men by the roadside 
heard him call out : " I've g-ot it ! I've g-ot it ! I've got it ! " He then sold his 
tack-machine, built the shop, and for two years only left his work for rest. But at 
the end of that time he had perfected a smooth-running- stocking-machine, or lathe 
for turning- g-un-stocks, which was soon found to be applicable to a hundred other 
uses, and by which there are also 
made the wheel-spoke, piano-leg, 
shoe-lasts, and many other curious 
articles and tools of Avood. It is 
the machine for turning any irreg- 
ular forms according to the given 
pattern. It is made up of two 
points that hold the piece of wood 
to be turned, as in any lathe; a 
revolving cutting- tool, which is set 
in a traveling carriage and has also 
a side, or what is called lateral 
movement on the carriage ; an iron 
pattern and the pieces that keep 
the cutting-tool in place so as to 
follow the pattern. There is a 
drum with a belt that follows the 
cutting-tool as it advances along 
the lathe. 

This wonderful invention, which 
has been applied to hundreds of 
uses, has alread^'^ been worth mill- 
ions of dollars to America, to 

England, and to France. It has proved so great a benefit to this country that Mr. 
Blanchard had his patent renewed three times by Congress, and received quite a 
good deal of money for it, although far less than its value, while he also lost a 
great deal in lawsuits. 

Even in the course of a few years, there were " more than fifty violators who 
pii-ated Mr. Blanchard's invention, and started up lathes in various parts of the 
country for making lasts, spokes, and other irregular forms. Combined and re- 
peated efforts were made to break down his patent. Eminent counsel were em- 
ployed and all Europe scoured to find some evidence of a similar motion. But in no 




Thomas Blanchard. 



16 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

age, in no country, could a trace be found of a revolving- cutting-tool Avorking to 
any given model like Blanchard's. Like the reaper, the revolver, and the sewing- 
machine, it had a general and unlimited application. It was really a discovery of 
a new principle in mechanics, whereby the machine is made the obedient, faithful 
servant of man, to work out his designs after anj'^ given model — be it round or 
square, straight or crooked, however irregular — and reproduce the original form 
exactly every time." 

After he brought out this machine, he made many more valuable inventions 
and discoveries. He made a new kind of steaml)oat to tide over rapids and shal- 
low water, by means of which navigation now extends hundreds of miles further 
up our rivers than before. He devised a j^rocess for bending large timber at any 
angle, without weakening it. This is of great advantage for ship-builders, who 
used to have much trouble in finding timber grown to the right angle for knees of 
vessels. Mr. Blanchard also invented the oval slate frame, the method of making 
the handles of shovels by steam-bending, which saved just one-half of the timber 
and made a far more durable handle ; and this, like his lathe, has been made useful 
in a great man^^ ways — arm-chairs, thills, and wheel-fellies, which used to be only 
made in four sections, are now in one straig'ht strip bent to a circle. 

Mr. Blanchard was born at Sutton, Massachusetts, on the 24th of Jmie, 1788. 
He died in Boston, April 16, 1864. 

The electric telegraph cost Samuel Finley Breese Morse twelve years 
out of the prime of his life. They were years of the severest kind of self-sacrifice, 
labor, and disappointment for the sake of an idea ; but they were crowned with 
success at last, and his invention was pronounced "the greatest triumph which 
human genius ever obtained over space and time." The idea was not original 
with Professor Morse ; steps toward it had been made by several scientific workers 
from the beginning of the century. It was in October of 1832, when the good 
ship Sully was on her Avay from Havre to New York, that one of her passengers 
suddenly thought of sending signals on wires over distances by the means of elec- 
tricity. This passenger was Mr. Morse, a talented American artist, who had 
fallen into talk with an American professor upon electricity, — how old Benja- 
min Franklin drew it from the clouds along- a slender wire, and about the new 
discoveries which had just been made in France by which electric sparks were 
obtained from the magnet. Mr. Morse said he thought that a signal sj^stem 
might be planned out on the same principle. As both the gentlemen had studied 
electricity, they found it verj'- interesting to talk upon this subject day aft^r da;N', 
and they suggested to each other many possible and impossible ways in which 



Saninel Finlei/ Breese Morse. 17 

they tlioug-lit the sii;nahi\£r might be done. But in the artist's mind the thought 
was more than interesting- talk \vith a fellow-passenger. It took deep root, and 
brought forth the g-reat idea of the telegraph, but not according- to any of the 
plans suggested on the voyag'e. From that tune, althoug-h more than forty 




Samuel Finley Breese Morse. 



years of age, Mr. Morse g-ave up paintmg and all else beside to devote his mnid, 
his money, and everything- that he had to the working out of a practical system 
of communication by means of electricity. He liad beg-un to study this science 
at Yale College when a very young man, and m later yeai"S, while he gave 
up most of his time to art, he had always kept up the study of chemistry and 



18 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



physics, especially electrical and g-alvanic expei-iments, and making practical in- 
ventions. This liad been a pleasure and a pastime to him before, but now it was 
life-work. He resolved to spend the whole of his life if necessary to the practi- 
cal development of this new idea. 




TRA.xsMiTTiNa Key. 



B3' the time he reached New York, all his plans were arranged. The alphabet 
was made and sketches of his machinery were drawn out in his note-book ; he was 
ready for work, and he ^vould spare hmiself in no way till he had succeeded. It 
was a terrible struggie Avith Avant and discouragement. Time after tune it didn't 




Morse's Recording Telegraph. 

come out right. Money went, and all his labor brought none in. He had three 
motherless children to support, beside everything else ; but with sj'mpathy from his 
brother and friends, and faith in God and himself, he did not give up. Every 
time his model failed to do what he intended, he found the flaw and worked it 
out, until at last all was correct and he knew he had reached success. But the dark 



Samuel Finley Breese Morse. 



19 



s^m^^'fU'-^^mfA 



days were not yet past. Our Government refused to do anything- with it ; he tried 
in vain to have it patented in England, and, returning- home, hadahnost despaired 
of its adoption in the United 
Stiites, when, in 1843, at mid- 
night, the last moment of tlie 
spring- session, Cong-ress set aside 
thirty thousand dollars for tri- 
al, and g-ave permission to set 
up a line between Washington 
and Baltimore for experiment. 
This was done just before the 
sitting- of the Democratic conven- 
tion in 18-44, with the Washing- 
ton end in a I'oom adjoining what 
was then the Supreme Court 
Room. Here Mr. Morse receiv- 
ed the despatches from the con- 
vention and read them to a large 
crowd that g-athered around the 
window. Everybody was in- 
tensely interest*3d, not only to 
hear from the convention, but 
with the wonderful way in which 
the news came. The3^ could not 
realize that it was possible to 
learn in a moment just what was 
happening- at Baltimore, and 
when it was said that Mr. Polk 
was nominated, there were many 
who thought it far safei' to wait 
till they heard du^ect by mail or 
messenger coming- on the train. 
But the telegraph was a success 
beyond a doubt — it was not fairy 
Avork or a dream, and its noble 
author received honors, medals, 
and wealth for the untold bene- 
fits of his discovery. Even then, he was not free from care and trouble. Several 
weai-isome and costly lawsuits were broug-ht against him by people who contested 




Morse's Transmitting Plate. 




• 6 '8 ±0 
TIMZ JN 



30 



SECONDS. 



20 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



his claims, all of which were settled in his favor after a while. Beside the honors 
paid to him in this country, it is said that no American ever received so many or 
so great honors as were paid him in Europe, for beside the g'old medals and 
insignia presented \)y several of the great sovereigns, a larg-e purse was made 
up by an assembly of representatives from dilTerent European countries that met 
in Paris about 1857. 

About twenty years before this, Wheatstone, of England, invented another 
kind of teleg-raphing- apparatus, but that of Professor Morse was so much simpler 
that it easUy took the lead. 

Besides the telegraph system which Professor Morse perfected and the recording 
instrument, and several other valuable inventions, he took the first daguerreotypes 
in America, made a pump-macliine for fire-engines, and, hi later years, laid the 
first telegraph under water. This was an expei'iment tried in New York Harbor 
in 1842, and he was so much interested in it that in the next year he wrote to the 

Secretary of the Treasur^^, sug- 
g-esting- an Atlantic telegraph, 
which was afterward brought to 
perfection by the energ-y of Mr. 
Cyrus W. Field, of New York. 
V^Q^i-'-x ,-^ O-y' Professor Morse was born 

in Charlestown, Massachusetts, 
April 37, 1791 ; he died in New 
York April 2, 1872. 

The great invention of Pro- 
fessor Morse had but half its 
present value and usefulness un- 
til Cyrus West Field carried 
it across the Atlantic Ocean 
and united the two continents b^- its magic wire. 

He was a retired merchant, about thii't^'-five years of age, when he first be- 
came mterested m a water or marine telegraph. Some enterprismg" men had 
tried to build a wire across the island of Newfoundland, the most easterly point 
on the American coast, and to have this connect with a line of fast steamers, 
which, it was thought, could reach the nearest point in Ireland in five days. In 
this way, news could be carried from one continent to the other inside of a week. 
An atterapt had already been made to build the Hue, but it had failed, and now 
it was wanted that some rich men would take hold of it and carry it through. 
Mr. Field was well knowTi as an able, enterpiising, and wealthy man, who had 




Atlantic Telegraph Cable, 1866. 



Cyrus West Field. 



21 



built up a large business in New York from the smallest kind of a beginning". 
He was strongly urged to take hold of this scheme, which, if well carried out, 
would be of great benefit to the country and a paying success. He agreed to 
think about it, and sat in his library, turning over a globe and considering, when 
the thought suddenly came to him, " Why not carry the line across the ocean ? " 
The more he thought of it the surer he felt that this should be his undertaking. 




The Breaking of the Cable. 

The next year he obtained from the Legislature "of Newfoundland the sole right 
for fifty years of landing telegraph cables on the island from both Europe and 
America. He formed a stock companj^ at once, and in a couple of j^ears organ- 
ized the ''Atlantic Telegraph Company " in London, furnishing one-fourth of the 
capital himself. The governments of Great Britain and the United States pro- 
vided ships, and the first expedition to lay the wire set out in 1857. This and 
another in the next year both proved failures. Then some time passed, and a 
third trial was made, which succeeded in laying a cable. But this gave out in 
about a month. 



22 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



Eleven j^ears had now passed, and still the Atlantic telegraph was only a 
scheme. Many of the stockliolders were discouraged, and Mr. Field and his ocean 
cahle were ridiculed by the people and the press of Europe and America. But he 
never lost faith in the enterprise, though its money and friends were fast g-rowing 
loss. 

The next year the Great Eastern was sent out to make another attempt. In 
mid-ocean the cahle laid the j^ear before was picked up and joined to the cable on 
board, and so the line was once more connected, and the vessel, safely making her 







The Great Eastern at Anchor. 



way to Newfoundland, landed the western end of the ocean wire. The tests were 
made again and again, with perfect success. The great value of the work was 
acknowledged in both countries. Several of the English gentlemen who had giv- 
en their money and influence in helping along the work were honored with 
knighthood, and in America the greatest honors were bestowed upon Mr. Field. 
Congress gave him the thanks of the nation, a gold medal, and other testimonials, 
showing that they looked upon his work as one of the greatest achievements of the 
century. The French Exposition, which was held after the cable had stood the 
test of about a year's service, gave him its grand medal. This was its highest 
av/ard and was only given to those who had proved themselves great public ben- 



Charles Goodyear. 



23 



efactors. The thirteen years of labor amid discouragements and ridicule brought 
him full reward. He afterward took an active and helpful interest in the laying 
of under-water cables in the Mediterranean and different parts of the East, and in 
the establishment of elevated railroads in New York City. 

Mr. Field was born at Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on the 30th of November, 
1819. He died in New York, July 13, 1892. 

It was by the patient, heroic labor of Cliarles Goodyear, in one blind exper- 
iment after another, that the process was discovered by which vulcanized India- 








Charles Goodyear. 

rubber can be made out of the sap of the African gum tree. It cost him eleven 
years and a half of the best part of his life, n nd for it he suffered poverty, disg-race 
for debts, and ridicule — sacrifices which were never made up to lihn, although he 
lived to see his invention used in five hundred different v/ays, and giving employ- 
ment in England. France, Germany, and the United States to eiglitj^ thousand 
persons, and producing eight million dollars' worth of goods every year. 

In the year 1834, Mr. Goodyear, then a bankrupt hardware merchant of Phila- 
delphia and nearly thirty-five years old, became interested, with about everybody 
else, in the wonderful trade of the manj' India-rubber companies that were 



H One Hundred Famous Americans. 

making- great quantities of g-oods of many kinds. Being- in New York, one day, 
ho bong'iit one of the new India-rubber life-preservers that the Roxbury Com- 
pany had just broug-ht out. He toolv it home, and true to his Connecticut birth, 
began to exaiuine it for the sake of seeing how it was made and if hecoukl improve 
on it. He soon made up his mind upon both these questions, and before long- he was 
again at the Roxbury \s ofrice with a pkm, which he wanted them to adopt. The 
company was not able to undei'take to make these improved apparatuses ; but the 
man in charges saw the ingenuity of Mi'. Goodyear's plan, and tokl him a sad little 
story, in hop(\s that he had found some one who would add anothei- chapter to 
the tale and make it come out all i-ight in the end. The story was something like 
this : 

" There are, Mr. Goodyear, a great many India-rubber companies in the United 
States just now that seem to be doing a very fine business, but really and truly 
they are not. They are all a good deal like our company ; we made, during the 
cool months of 1833 and 1834, a very large quantity of shoes and other rubber 
goods, and sold them to dealers at high pi-ices ; but in the summer a great many 
of them melted, so that twenty thousand dollai's' worth of our articles were returned 
to us melted down in common gum that smelt so badly we had to bury it. We've 
tried mixing new materials with the raw rubber, and new machinery, but even if 
our shoes can bear the heat of one summer, they will melt the next. Wagon- 
covers, overcoats, hats, and rubber-cloth grow sticky in the sun and stiff in the 
cold. The directors of th(^ companies don't know what to do. Thej^'ll be ruined 
if they stop uuiking, and the whole of the winter's work maj'- melt on their hands 
as soon as Avarm weather comes. The capital of this company is ali'eady used up, 
and unkiss the true way to use this gmn is found — and that soon — the companj^ 
will liave to go down in complete ruin. Now, while the gentlemen cannot take 
this improved life-preserver of yours, if you can only find out some way to make 
India-rubber that will stand the smnmer heat and the winter cold, they will gladly 
give almost anything you ask for that." 

It seemed like a chance talk, but it fixed the life-work of Charles Goodyear. 
He made up his mind — or rather the thought grew in him like a presentiment — 
that this great object could be gained, and he shoidd do it ; and yet he knew little 
about chemistry, and disliked any complicated calculations, and had no money to 
start with. Owing to the failure of some business houses with which his father's 
firm was connected, the hard Avare house of A. Good.year & Sons was bankrupt, 
and Charles was arrested for debt almost as soon as he reached home. He had 
a family, was in rather poor health, and seemed to have every reason to give 
up his idea al~^ut India-rubber, and to find some paying work at once. 

But nothing could change his mind or discourage him. Living within the 



Charles Goodyear. 25 

prison limits, he began his experiments, for India-rubber g-um was one of the 
easiest tliing-s in the world to obtain in those days. It was blind work, and success 
was long- in coming-. He was seldom out of jail for debt during- any year from 
1835 to 1841, and although the interest and the aid of his friends gave out, he 
patiently kept on in his trails, never being too sure, however near he felt to suc- 
cess, and never becoming altogether discouraged when his beautiful work melted 
with the summer's heat into a soft, bad-smelling mass of gum. He explained his 
difhculties to the great professors, ph^-sicians, and chemists of the day, but none 
of them could help him. 

The story of failure after trial was repeated time and again in Philadelphia, 
and then in New York, until it was amazing, and too often provoking to those who 
loved him, that his patience lasted so long. But perseverance was the greatest trait 
in Charles Goodyear's character. Next to that was his love of beauty. This was 
the reason that he often decorated his India-rubber fabrics, and it led at length to 
his first real step toward success. He was bronzing the surface of some India- 
rubber drapery, and, wishing to take oif a little of the bronze, he applied aqua- 
fortis, which not only took off the bronze but discolored the fabric so that it seemed 
spoiled, and Mr. Goodyear threw it away. Several days after, he happened to think 
that he had not examined the effect of the aquafortis very closely ; he hurried 
to find the piece he had thrown away, and was surprised to see that it was a 
better quality of rubber than he had ever obtained before, especially in bearing- 
heat. 

He had his process patented, and even then did not know that he had found 
his great secret, and that aquafoi'tis is two-fifths sulphuric acid. Securmg his patent 
and approval and some money, he still was far from out of his troubles ; the pawn- 
broker, poverty, and severe want for his family were the everj^-day circumstances 
of his life. He succeeded in manufacturing his goods, but now nearly all the 
men of means or enterprise in the country hated the very name of India-rubber, 
with good cause ; the sticky, bad-smelling summer experiences had ruined many 
wealthy capitalists and bankrupted scores of firms. Mr. Goodyear was called a 
man of one idea, a crazy man, and so he seemed with his enthusiasm for his rub- 
ber, which he wore in every form — cap, coat, shoes, and many other things, 
both for the sake of testing and of advertising it. At last he found a few men 
of the old Roxbury Company who could not get over their belief in the useful- 
ness of the rubber, and together they started up a new business, which prospered 
greatly for a time. But Mr. Good^^ear again became penniless and destitute when 
it was found that the aquafortis only vulcanized the surface and not the entire 
fabric. Every one, even his own family, now tried to dissuade him from doing any 
more with the stuff which had caused such ruin. But he could not give it up, and 



26 "^ One Hundred Famous Americans. 

buying- out another experimenter's invention for mixing- tlie g'um with sulphur, he 
patiently set to work once more on his half-blind experiments — work, too, which he 
mig-ht have been spared long- before if he had had a better knowledge of chemistry. 
The secret lay near at hand, but for months he could not g-rasp it, until, one 
day in the spring- of 1839, an accident revealed to him that a mass of g-umand svd- 
phui" mixed would not melt after they had happened to hit ag-ainst a red-hot 
stove ! He tested it and tried it in various ways, but the result was the same ; he 
had succeeded at last, and he now knew for a surety that g-um and sulphur mixed 
and put under g-reat heat would afterward stand both heat and cold. He felt 
himself amply I'epaid for the past, he said, and quite indifferent about the future. 

He spent six years more in the hardest trials and severest labors of all, work- 
mg- this discovery out to a practical success, and patiently- perfecting one thing- 
after another until he had his inventions secured by sixty patents. But even 
then he w^as not allowed his full reward, for the rig-hts were obtained by other 
persons in Eng-land and in France, and his years of toil and hardship brought 
him only scant returns in money. But he was happy that he had been success- 
ful, because the work and not the reward was what he labored for. The world 
aclmowledg-ed his services, and awarded him honors for his skill and perseve- 
rance. Hig-lily as he thought of the value of his discovery, he did not overesti- 
mate it. " Art, science, and humanity are indebted to him for a material which 
is useful to them all, and serves them as no other known material could." 

Mr. Goodyear was born m New Haven, Connecticut, December 29, 1800. 
He died in New York City, July 1, 1860. 

In the early part of this century, when Goodj^ear was in the hardware busmess 
in Philadelphia, without a thought for India-rubber, and when Morse Avas studying 
to become an artist, and only amusing- himself with electricity, Cyrus Hall 
McCorinick was a lad in his teens, living- on a farm in Virginia, and watch- 
ing- his father try in vain to make a reaping'-machine. Some of his time was 
spent in the public school, but the larg-er part of it was passed in helping- upon 
the plantation. This being- a larg-e one, there were on it several saw and g-rist 
mills, a carpenter's shop and a blacksmith}^ which were more interesting than 
books or tutors to the planter's eldest son. From them and the farm work he gol 
the most important part of his education. 

When about fifteen j^ears old, he contrived a lig-ht, easy-acting g-rain-cradle, 
for he wanted to do his share of the harvesting-, and could not manage the un- 
handy cradle in general use. It was only a couple of years after this that he 
invented a hill-side plow, which was the first self-sharpening- plow ever made. 

With so much love for machinery, and a faculty for invention himself, he was 



Cyrus Hall McCoi^mick. 27 

of course very much . inter<3sted in his father's efforts, as he watched him try for 
years to do what had heen attempted in vain ag-ain and again since the days of the 
first Cliristian century — to contrive a macliine for reaping. He wanted to try his 







Cyrus Hall McCormick. 



own hand upon it, he had succeeded so well with the cradle and the plow ; but his 
father at first said no, it would be but time wasted : a reaper could not be 
made. At last, though, he consented, and his son — then almost grown into man- 
hood — took up the discarded machine. He gave his whole mind to picking out the 



28 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

difficulties that prevented its Avorkiriii', till tiiially he had mapped out an entirely 
new plan. Gradually he g'rasped the problem, and i'e;Uized what would be the 
devices necessary to cut i^rain as it stands in the field, and his mind became filled 
with the details and ai'rang-ements of the wonderf id reaper. He saw that the cuttuig- 
must be done by an edged instrument, acting with what is called a reciprocating 
movement as the machine moved along ; then he realized that it must have the 
reel to gather and hold up the grain in a body ; then the sickle, with its fast recip- 
rocating and sloAV advancing motions ; and, finally, that there must be a receiving 
platform on which the grain could fall and be taken care of. These were the great 
problems. After they were discovered, he had only to make the parts so that 
they would act together upon wheels. Then he began to build. Step by step his 
ideal grew toward the perfect machine, the inventor himself constructing cranks, 
drive- wheels, gear-wheels, dividers, cutting-blades, gathering- reels, and all the 
other parts, until he finally had a reaper that could cut grain passably well with 
a man walking beside it to draw the swath from the platform, whUe another man, 
or a boy, rode on the back of the horse that dragged the machine through the 
field. 

In 1831 — that is, when Mr. McCormick was tAventy-two years old — this reaper 
was tested before a number of leading Virginia farmers ; it cut several acres of 
oats successfully, and in the next year harvested fifty acres of wheat. It was cer- 
tainly a success. There was no doubt about its value, but Mr. McCormick felt 
that farmers would not take hold of it yet, so for several years he made no efforts to 
develop it any further or to introduce it as it was. But letting it rest, he went into 
the iron smelting business, which promised to pay sooner and better. Instead, it 
brought misfortune, for the hard times of *3T came on, and, in the midst of the 
panic, Mr. McCormick's partner became frightened aixl left him, and the business 
failed. 

But the forsaken partner did not fail. By hard and steady work, courage, 
patience, and economy, he paid all the debts, and won back his business standing. 
Although he came out of difflcultv without a bit of monev for himself, he had 
maintained the confidence of all who knew him and kept his honor and integrity 
unshaken. As soon as all the claims were settled, he turned to the reaper, which 
was already secured to him by patents. He made some valuable improvements on 
it at once, and then moA-ed to Cincinnati, Avhich was at that time the center of the 
grain-growing region of the West. In a couple of j^ears he moved again and set- 
tled in Chicago, where he set up his own factpries and began to get himself fairly 
established in the reaper manufacturuig business. Up to within a few years of 
this time, he had had a great many set-backs and discourag'ements, for Avhile he 
went about himself a great deal, introducing the machines, he had not been able to 



Cyrus Hall McCormick. 



29 



do his own manufacturing-; his makers as well as his ag-ents had not always ful- 
filled their contracts, and in many cases the reapers had failed to work. From 
1831 to 1840, he only sold one machine, and that he took back. All the time he 
kept dilig-ently at work studying- the defects and correcting- them, depending- upon 
other business for his support and the income necessai-y to perfect and introduce 
the machines. 







'■-vh,,, 



Reaping MAcmNE. 



It was in about the year 1840 that they beg-an to g-ive him satisfaction ; then he 
was willing- to sell them and was successful in finding- customers. After the}" had 
been thoroug-hly tested and wei-e fairly in use among- the farmers in this countrj^, he 
went to Europe to introduce them abroad. He took theui to the g-reat World's Fair 
in London, in 1851, and g-ood-naturcdl^^ stood all the ridicule that the papers and vis- 
itors made of his "monstrosity'," knowing- that he should prove its value when he 
put it to work. The London Times said it seemed to be something- like a cross be- 
tween an Astley chariot, a wheelbarrow, and a flying--machine. A few weeks later it 



30 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

was Mr. McCormick's turn to ridicule English stupidity — if he had had any desire 
to — for after the reaper had been tlioroughly tested on several farms, it was voted 
by all as the most important thini:^' in the g-reat Fair. The Times itself said its 
value Avas equal to the cost of the entire Exhibition. Among- all the other farm- 
ing- tools and machinery' shown — and there were many of them from all countries 
— this received the Great Medal. The papers turned from ridiculing- to praising, 
and Mr. McCormick suddenly found himself a very famous man. He was hon- 
ored as having- done more for ag-riculture than any person of his time. The Ci'oss 
of the Legion of Honor was awarded to him in Paris, and — some years after that — 
he received the still greater distinctions of Officer of the Legion of Honor and of 
an election to the French Academy of Sci(>nce. 

Unlike many inventors Mr. McCormick was a man of business, and as soon as his 
invention was developed into a successful reaper he undertook to fill the demand for 
it himself ; and, though he had several partners, he was always at the head of the bus- 
iness. At the sam(3 time he kept on studying to further improve his already wonder- 
ful machine. Stage b.y stage, it grew till it became the self-acting- and, as it seems, 
absolutely perfect reaper of to-day — a machine that cuts both g-rass and g-rain, 
and more than that : without having- to stop in its course across the field, it g-athers 
what it cuts into sheaves, binds them securely with twine, and puts themsafel3^ on 
the ground. All this it does of itself, or automatically, as we say. The only person 
needed upon it is the one who drives the horses that draw it, and who sits on a high 
seat in front. Its working is so true and so simple that a boy or girl can manage it. 

When the Chicago works were finished , Mr. McCormick had not much capital 
and took a large risk in undertaking- to build seven hundred machines for the har- 
vest of 1848, but they Avere all sold, and their maker had the satisfaction of feeling 
that the future success of his reaper was now assured. After conducting the 
business in Chicago for over thirty years — either by himself or with various part,- 
ners at different times — in 1880 it was made into a joint stock company with a 
paid-up capital of two millions and a half of dollars, Mr. McCormick being Presi- 
dent, and his brother, who had been in partnership with him for twenty years, 
Vice-President. 

Four years after its incorporation, the McCormick Harvesting Machine Com- 
]>any was said to liave a capital of three millions of dollars invested in their works, 
with eighteen hundred men emplo3'ed in the busy seasons, turning out nearly 
lilt v-nve thousand machines a vear. In all, it is stated, thev have sold oA^er five 
himdred thousand reaping and moAving machines, and as each of these does the 
Avork of ten persons, an army of five millions of men Avould be necessary to do 
Avhat is noAv being- done by them. Large numbers of them are sent eA'ery year to 
NcAv Zealand, Australia, Africa, South America, Russia, Germany, Italy, Spain. 



Elias Howe. 31 

France, and Great Britain. They have done more for the enlargement and de- 
velopment of the world's agriculture than any other single invention of ancient or 
modern times ; and it is largely due to them that the United States has become 
foremost among all countries in agriculture, that our great growth in wheat- 
raising has outstripped the record of any department of agriculture in any coun- 
try during the past forty years, and that our hay-harvest has grown to he the 
most valuable of all the crops our land produces. 

When the venerable inventor died, his son and namesake took his place in the 
great business, and in the many good works with which he shared his prosperity. 
Mr. McCormick was very generous with his wealth, especially to the Presbyterian 
Church and to the city of Chicago. In his fiftieth year — the same in which he 
was married — he founded and endowed his great charity, the Presbyterian Theo- 
logical Seminary of the Northwest, in Chicago. Beside his first large gift, he 
aided the school bountifully for many years, until it was thoroughly established. 
He also gave money to pay for a professorship in the Washington and Lee Uni- 
versity at Lexington, Virginia. 

After the great fire of 1871 he was one of the first to rebuild in the burnt dis- 
tricts of Chicago, and at the time of his death, he was the owner of some of the 
finest blocks of buildings in the city. He was always much interested in the 
progress and welfare of Chicago, and gave liberally toward education and other 
public benefits. 

Cyrus H. McCormick was born at Walnut Grove, Virginia, February 15, 1809. 
He died in Chicago, Ilhnois, May 13, 1884. 

Elias Howe set to- work to invent a sewing-machine for two reasons. One 
was that his health was too poor for him to follow his regular business of a 
machinist, and he thought he could support his family by making an invention. 
The other reason was that he knew there was great need in the world of a 
machine that could sew. He was at this time about twenty-three years old, low 
spirited, and frail in health, with a wife and three children. Life had not been 
successful to him so far. When sixteen years old he had left the work on his 
father's farm and in his mill to be a machinist in Lowell, Massachusetts, and from 
there he went to Cambridge, barely earning a living on account of poor health. 
One day he heard some men talking in the shop about the great value that a 
sewing-machine would be, and from that time the thought of mventing one filled 
all his leisure, and finally became the business of his life. 

After intently watching Mrs. Howe ply her needle through the cloth as she 
sewed, he tried for a year to make a machine that would work somewhat like a 
hand. Then he thought that another stitch was needed, and by and by the idea 



33 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

came to him of using- two threads and forming- a stitch with the aid of a shuttle 
and using- a curved needle with the eye near the point. Being poor liimself, and 
his father also, he had to look about for some one to aid him carry out these 
ideas. Mr. George Fisher, a wood and coal dealer of Cambridge, finally agreed 
to furnish live hundred dollars in monev, and to have Mr. Howe and his faniilv 
make their home in his house, while the garret should be the workshop for mak- 
ing- the machine. In I'eturn for all this a half interest in the patent, if one could 
be obtained, should go to Mr. Fisher. Day after day, and often part of the 
night, too, Elias Howe laboi-ed over his invention. In April, 1845, a seam was 
sewed, and in July a woolen suit for Mr. Fisher and one for Mv. Howe were nuide 
with the machine. The invention was at last complete; and patented, but nobody 
would buy it, or use it. People said the machine was ingenious and useful, no 
doubt, but they would not buy oue. Mr. Fisher was disgusted, and the Howes 
all had to go back to Elias's fathei'"s house. C)]d Mr. Howe could not support 
them, and so the inventor got a ])lace as engineer on a railway locomotive, while 
he sent his brother Amasa. to England to see what he could do thei-e with the 
model. 

Finally some an-angements were agreed upou with a corset-maker, and Elias 
with his wife and children went to London, but it was only another disappointment, 
and after a little Avhile he had to send his destitute family back to father HoAve at 
Cambridge, while he strove fiu'ther with his machine. But he met with no suc- 
cess, and Avas forced at last to pawn his model and patent-papers for money 
enough to buy liis passage back to America. 

On landing- in Ncav York, he found that his wife was dying of consumption in 
Cambi'idge, while he w^as without money to pay his fare to her and too weak to 
walk. As soon as possible, his father or friends sent him something, and he 
reached home just in time to see the spirit of liis wife pass away. 

This was the darkest hour of all his life. He had seemed to spend his whole 
self, labor, talents, and time for nothing : death, poverty, and sickness tilled his 
home — or was the trouble he brought into his father's home, for he had none of 
his own — and he could not help let^ling that thrifty and industrious people had 
some reason to despise his want of success. Poor ]\Irs. Howe's death was the 
last shadow on the misfortunes of her suffering husband. If she had lived, she 
would liave seen better days, from the very month of his return. 

His invention had been taken up by some unprincipled mechanics and many 
sewing-machines had been made after it, so that the name of the original in- 
ventor had become quite famous in his absence. Friends now came forward 
with money to help him, and in 184G he began suits against those who had stolen 
liis patents. After six years of hard lighting, the courts decided these suits in 



Ellas Howe. 



33 



his favor. He opened a small factory in New York, which yielded some profits, 
while the royalties of other machines added to his income, so that he finally made 
a fortune of two million dollars, although a portion of this had to be spent in de- 




Elias Howe, 



fending his patent. He lived to see the machine over which he had labored s : 
hard and lost so much that could never be i-epaired, appreciated as one of the 
greatest labor-saving" contrivances in the world, Avliile the manufacturing of them 
gave a living to tens of thousands of mechariics, yielded fortunes to the manu- 
facturers, and a revenue of millions to the United States. Honors came to him. 



34 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

as \v(Ml as Avoalth at last. H(i n^ccivod the Gross of tlie Legion of Honor, and a 
l^old medal fi-oni the Paris Exposition. 

Many attempts had been made to sew by machinery before Mr. Howe's day, 
but his succeeded. His machine Avould actually do the work, and his name is 
now honored far and wide for the labor he has saved to millions by bravely 
keeping on in spite of the weary toil and poverty he endured while patiently work- 
ing out his idea. 

It has been said, that the life-history of this man, with its strivings, its failures, 
and the long warfai'e foi' his rights, teaches the grandest lessons of patience and 
earnest struggle, while its final triumph of mechanical and iinancial success 
opened the way for an army of workers who, in following his steps, have brought 
forth a multitude of improvements and additions, which are a source of immense 
wealth and save a vast amount of labor to both the men and women of his own 
counti-y and Europe. 

When the war broke out, Mr. Howe entered the armvas a common soldier ; and 
once, when the pay of the regiment was delayed, he advanced the money himself. 

Ellas Howe was born in SpenctM', Massachusetts, July 9, 1819. He died in 
Brooklyn, New York, October 3, 18G7. 

Thomas Alva Edison is the greatest of modern inventors. It has been 
said: '* lie is the leader of a new school, who do not work by blind experiment, 
but by the law of probability. He asks (xuestions of nature bj^* finding out first 
all the known, then proving it over again by re-trial. Then he considers what is 
probable, and begins his experinuMits upon what is most natural in the unknown. 
No blind guessing. A careful, d(>lilnM'ate search in a new direction. Such a man 
adds to the sum of human knowledge at every step, and every new discovery is 
a proved fact, useful forever after. He arrives at things because he has the 
compass of personal knowledge. He is the most remarkable inventor who ever 
lived. The lesson of his life is found in the fact that he has proved that invention 
is an art and not a liai)py guessing, that discovery is a wise search, not a drifting 
in the fogs of ignorance. His life is the greatest incentive to our young people 
to be found in nuHlern history. It teaches to work, it points out the new path, 
at once laborious, scientilic, exact, and ending at success." 

The fii'st time that j\lr. Edison became widelv known was in about 18/0. He 
had failed in testing his duplex telegraph between Rochester and Boston, and 
came to New York to do something, he scarce!}'' knew what. One day he hap- 
pened to be in the office of the Gold Indicator Company when their apparatus 
gave out. It was in the midst of some excitement, and when Edison olfered to 
fix it, the brokers felt desperate enough to let him try, although they did not be- 



Thomas Alva Edison. 



35 



lieve he could do any good. But he succeeded in adjusting the instrument, and so 
delighted the managers with liis appearance of worth and abihty that they made 
him superintendent of the company. He set up improved apparatus, invented 




Thomas Alva Edison. 



the gold-printer, and was soon famous as a successful inventor ; but he was not 
so successful in manufacturing these instruments and his other inventions, for 
which there Avas soon a large demand. It is said, ''if he had an order for any 
of his inventions, and, after having made a part or all of them, he invented an im- 
provement, he would always add' it, even though at his own expense." 



36 One Hundred Famovs Americans. 

After a time, ho fj-ave \ip the ^-roat factory at Newark, New Jersey, and freed 
himself of its eares for tlie sake of invention. 

Mr. Edison's chief interest has always been in tclej^Taphy ; it began when he 
was a lad selling: papers on tlie Grand Trnnk Railway. One of the great priv- 
ileges of his life was the gift of lessons in operating from a man whose little child 
he had saved from being run o\-er by a train. But even before this he had a 
small home-made apparatus of a stove wire uisulated hy bottles and used as the 
line wire ; the wire for his electro-magnets was wound with rags, while the boy- 
ish operator tried in vain to supply the electiicity by rubbing the cat's back. He 
was a clever, enterprising little fellow even then, and although he had scarcely 
eight weeks of schooling altogether, he had a great thirst for knowledge. He 
read books on chemistry, science, and in fact took out almost all the important 
volumes in the Detroit public library before he was liftA?en years old. At tins age 
lie lost his mother, who had given great interest and cai'e to his love of learning ; 
and about that time he became a newsboy on the trains of the Grand Trunk Rail- 
road that ran in and out of Detroit. This business had two attractions for him : 
the money he earned by it, and the chances it gave to see a great many books and 
papers. Meanwhile he kept up his interest in chemistry, and had a very nice time 
iluring his leisure hours experimenting in a laboratory he set up in an empty car. 
But this came to a sudden end by the explosion of some chemicals, setting fire to 
the car and putting the train in danger. 

A little while after, he undertook something entu^ly different: he got a small 
lot of type and a little sheet called the Grand Trunk Herald made its appearance 
on the train. It was soon after this that the grateful station-master otfered to 
teach him telegraphy. Night after night for several months, when his long day's 
work was over, he returned to his friend's station and took his lesson. He 
learned rapidly, and was soon able to get regular employment as an operator. 
Gradually he advanced from place to place and worked himself up until he had a 
position in Boston, which was considered one of the most important in the country. 
Besides his regular duties he nearly always managed to have a little shop for ex- 
periments in chemistry : sometimes this gave dissatisfaction to his employers, but 
in Boston his experiments brought him more money than his position, so he gave 
it up to try the duplex telegraph. This succeeded finally, although it failed for a 
tinu^ and made the inventor feel pretty down-hearted as he took his way from 
Rochester to New York : but affairs soon brightened, for the fixing of the stock 
indicator opened the way for a series of the greatest inventions of this century. 
It is said that he owns in all over a hundred and fifty patents, all but about a 
dozen of which are sort of safeguards for the valuable ones. 

Amonir his chief works are the perfecting of a cheap and serviceable electi'ic 



Terry — Jerome — Dennison — Hotvard. 37 

light, and the inventions of the sextuplex telegraphy and the electric pen. By 
means of the sextuplex telegraphy, six messages may be sent at the same time 
over the same Avire, in opposite directions, each being kept distinct from the other, 
and perfectly delivered. The electric pen, for multiplying copies of letters, or 
drawings, is made up of a tube-shaped pen in which a needle, driven by elec- 
tricit}', works in a motion like that of a sewing-machine needle, and perforates 
the lines drawn with it so that the perforated sheet may be afterward inked and 
used in a duplicating press, when the ink, passing through the tiny holes, leaves a 
finely-dotted tracing like the original on another sheet. 

But of all Mr. Edison's inventions, there are none probably so wonderful and 
of so great fame as the carbon telephone, the phonograph, and the kinetoscope. 
He is now living in West Orange, New Jersey. 

Mr. Edison was born in a little village of Erie County, New York, February 
11, 1847. 

There are many other names that deserve an honorable place upon the list of 
American inventors. Eli Terry, of Plymouth, Connecticut, first began to make 
woodtMi clocks shortly after the Revolution, and started the clock-making- indus- 
try, to which Chauiicey Jerome, his apprentice, gave a great impulse by in- 
venting metal machinery to take the place of the wooden works. 

Watch-making by machinery also began in Amei'ica in 1850. Two years before 
this, two Boston men, Aaron L. Deimison, a watch-repairer, and Edward 
HoAvard, a clock-maker, began to discuss together the jjlan of making watches 
hy machinery. Mr. Dennison was leader in the project, and after talking it over 
a great deal here, he traveled through Switzerland and carefully noted every- 
thing about watch-making in the home of the art, where skillful workmen made 
the best and most wonderful watches in the world by hand. 

After he came home, experiments were begun, and the two men started in 
business, soon setting up the Boston Watch Company's factory at Roxbury. It 
was only a small beginning at first, and a large part of the finest works had to be 
imported. They were pretty expensive and not always perfect time-keepers. Still 
it was a great advance to have machinery that could make a watch at all. Soon 
other companies took up the industry, especially the American Company at Wal- 
tham, Massachusetts, and in a few years they began to be ver^^ successful. No 
amount of care or labor was spared to improve them, and now our American fac- 
tories turn out a better ordinary time-keeper than the Swiss watch. The prices, 
too, have been made so Ioav that few Swiss watches are now imported, and the 
American watches — especially from the rival Waltham and Elgin companies — are 
crowding out the Swiss watches in aU the markets of the world. 



38 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



American ing-ciuiity has led the world for several years in machinery for mak- 
\r\^ cloth and other ^oods of woolen and cotton. A writer of authority says: 

"There is not a machine in the whole list for spinning [and weaving wool- 
ens, fi'om the picker and the card to the nap-cutter, which we have not im- 
proved, and made to do better and faster woi'k than the machines used on other 
continents. Some of the machines are purely of American invention. The won- 
derful Bigelow automatic loom, by which figures of any kind can be woven irito 
carpets, is the idea of Erastus B. Bigelow, of Massachusetts, who took out 
his patent in 1845, and achieved what Europe had given up as hopeless. Up 
to that time carpets were woven entirely by hand, but Mr. Bigelow's inven- 
tion ga \'e the world a power-loom which would make figures that would match 
and would weave so i-apidly as to increase the production from eight yards a 
day, which was the average of hand labor, to twent^'-seven yards a day for 
two-pl V carpet. The same machine was also found to be able to weave the heavy 
Brussels carpet, the production of which is increased from fom^ to twenty yards a 
day. " 

This made the carpet business a very lively one, and furnished goods at prices 
which almost everybody could pay, and the trade, which in 1850 was worth a little 
less than three millions of dollars, was in 1900 nearly fift}' millions. 

James Lyall, of New York City, has imj)roved the old loom for weaving dress 
goods in many ways, but particidarly by inventing a new shuttle which has a pos- 
itive, or du'ect and unvarying motion, so that it can be made to fly across almost 

any width of loom, and so weaves the desirable 
"extra wide" goods which were unknown sixty 
3^ears ago. 



The great improvements hi the art of pi'inting — 
most of which have been made in this century- — are 
the woi'k of many muids on both sides of the globe ; 
but it is to Bicharcl March Hoe, of New York, 
'(ithat the woi-ld owes the perfect cylinder presses 
i which are now used to print some of the greatest 
newspapers in Europe and in America. 

Mr. Hoe's father, Ro])ert Hoe, was an English 
inventor, and the first person who set up a cylinder press in this country ; and 
Richard March began to invent and improve machineiy when he was a school- 
boy. At twenty-two years of age he went to England to patent an improvement 
upon saw-making, and while abroad he gave a great deal of thought and labor 
to printing-presses, especially the steam-presses invented some twenty years 




Franklin Press. 



Richard March Hoe. 



39 



sx:,;rEr,-»Kr:ci:r— :r.^ 




r>' n-. ^v.^nKi IVKRS FOLDED, 34,000 COPIES AN HOUR OF AN 
WEBB PERFECTING PKESS. ^^^^^^^ ^:^^^'^:^ 

, Tj n.'iivT/it>r Prpss which prints seventy 
ti„„«, until he perfected the ,*?'-f.^f-„^'\'™^,/:^;„;,..i„u on both .ides 
thousand tour-page newspaiK-re m an houi , ni.uun„ 



40 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



of tho sheet at the same time, and catting them apart and folding- them before 
they leave the press. 

There are also many others who have benefited the world by their inventions 
and experiments. The great faculty of American ingenuity, which was first most 




Machine for I'uiNTiNci Papkr-hanginos. 



reman^able in Benjamin Franklin, the statesman, has made scores of illustrious 
names in our history. There is no branch of industry, science, or art, no kind of 
business, work or play, that has not been altered and improved by the great army 
of American inventors. Mr. Hoe died in 18SG. 



EARLY STATESMEN AND ORATORS. 



NEVER in the world's history has a small body of people in a far-off and 
newly-settled country been watched with so much interest and attention by 
other nations as were the revolting- 
patriots of America. The battle of 
Bunker Hill sent a bright flash of 
valor across the Atlantic that re- 
vealed to the Old World the spirit 
and mettle of the New, and drew 
men to study the histories and the 
characters of the people who were 
resisting- the power of Gi'eat Biitain, 
who seemed not only to know their 
rights, but to be ready to establish 
the justice of their claim, and to de- 
fend it to the end. Suddenly the 
eyes of all mankind were turned 
upon the rough beginning- of a country 
beyond the Atlantic; and from out 
its small and scattered cities, its 
unexplored stretches of wilderness, 
and its uneducated settler families — 
far away fi-om each other and often 
divided in feeling — they saw rise up 
a r'ace of noble, pure-minded, reso- 
lute men, whose greatness soon com- 
manded the interest and the respect 
of the most eminent people in Europe. 
All the world watched these patriots 
as they passed throug-h one of the most trying- times known in history, and, with 
one voice, at the end, united in naming them among- the truly g-reat whose fame is 
for all tune. 





. <2y^^^^^2V2/^^-i^^>^ 




42 One Hundred Famou^ Americans. 

Benjamin Franklin was then the most niiportant American in the eyes of 
all foreig'ners, as he had been for almost fifty years the most able and respected 
of all men in his own land. His strongly-built, well-foi"med figure, his courtly 
manners, and pleasant face, with its light skin and gray eyes, was known in Eng- 
land long before tlie smoke of powder rose over Bunker Hill. He lived there for 
over a ^-ear when he was about twent3^ years old, working as a jom'ne^'man 
printer, and twenty 3'ears before the war he was chosen by the Pennsylvania 
Assembl}^ to make an official visit to London to plead before the Privy Council 
the cause of the people against the sons of William Penn, who were proprietary 
governors owning large estates, upon which the^' claimed that they should not pay 
the Assembly tax. Franklin had a quiet, logical, and exceedingly fair way o( 
speaking, and was so successful in his arguments that the Council decided that 
the estates of the Penns should bear an equal share of the public taxes. 

Seven j^ears later he made another visit to the mother country. This time it 
was for several of the Colonial Assemblies, and on even more serious business, 
being in regai'd to what the Americans felt were unjust taxes on the part of Great 
Britain. A very strong feeling had grown up b}" this time between England and 
the Colonies, and the hateful Stamp Act was passed the next year ; but in the 
following year, when the claims of the Americans Avere examined before the 
House of Commons, it Avas diie to the talent, skill, and the great amount of infor- 
mation which Franklin had at command in presenting- his country's cause, that 
the Act was repealed. But other laws, just as hard and as much disliked, were 
kept in force, and the dispute between the two countries still went on. Franklin 
did all in his power to have the matters peacefully settled, but when he found that 
it was impossible for the Americans to gain their rights by talk, he returned 
home, after a stay of over ten years, and joined heartily in the fight for freedom. 

The battle of Lexington had taken place while he was at sea, and the whole 
country was now filled with excitement. The day aft^r he landed, on the 6th of May, 
17T5, he was made a delegate to the Continental Congress, and was there put upon 
the famous committee of five, with Jefferson, John Adams, Roger Sherman, and 
Robert R. Livingston, to prepare the Declaration of Independence, which, after it 
was adopted and duly engrossed on parchment, he, with the fifty-four other 
honoi'ed patriots, risked life, land, and all against the power and wrath of Great 
Britain in signing it. 

Franklin was a statesman, not a soldier, and his work during the Revolution- 
ary War was to draft the first plan of government, called the Articles of Con- 
federation ; to help collect militia to defend his State, Pennsylvania ; to take up 
all the different duties and cares of the first Postmaster-General ; to visit Wash- 
uigton's camp and consult with the Commander-in-Chief upon ways and means ; 



Benjamin Franklin. 



43 



to g-o to Canada to see if the people there would join with the Colonies ; and to 
labor devotedly for his country's cause on committees of the greatest importance, 
and in the conventions that controlled the public actions of all the whole people. 

When, before the close of the second year of the war, it became necessary for us 
to have a helping- friend in some great foreig'n power, it was the wise and venera- 
ble Dr. Franklin who was entrusted with the mission to France. Althoug-h he 
was then in his seventieth year, he was still one of the shrewdest and best agents 
that ever managed the affairs of any country. He at once became a great favor- 
ite in Paris. People were charmed with 
his simple ways and quaint manners, for 
he pretended to be nothing more than a 
plain Colonist, although Oxford Univer- 
sity, in England, had made him a Doctor 
of Laws, and he was famous all over 
Europe for learning, statesmanship, dis- 
coveries in science, practical inventions, 
and wisdom about common things. In a 
short time he completely won over the 
divided favor of the French people to the 
American side, but for a long- while the 
government would not ag-ree to do any- 
thing for us, because France did not want 
to bring- on a war with Great Britain 
by uniting openly with the Colonies, al- 
though she had given us secret aid from 
the first. But we needed more than that ; 
we wanted a firm and open ally, and so 
while Dr. Franklin was allowmg- himself 
to be the pet of French society, while he Prlntino-press used by Franklin. 
was making- the acquaintance of the g-reatest literary and scientific people of the 
capital, and interesting- everj- one by his own part in these things, he was still 
more earnestly trying- to bring- about a treaty and alliance with the g-overnment. 

After about a year of toilsome business that taxed all his resources as well as 
his good temper, the object was secured, the treaty was made, and a fleet of six- 
teen war-vessels under Count D'Estaing, and an army of four thousand men 
were sent to America in the summer of 1778. Franklin was now able to buy 
vessels, which were made into American cruisers. The next year he helped to fit 
out a fleet of vessels, which were sent out from France under command of John 
Paul Jone§, the stoi-y of whose gallant life is told in the chapter on Commanders. 




44 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

The agreements in this treaty were most favorable to the United States, and 
it has often been said that we owe our independence to it. But it did not secure 
rest or even smooth sailing- for our old and busy statesman. ' During- the re- 
mainder of the war, he sta^^ed on at Paris, devoting* himself to all the difificult and 
perplexing foreig-n affairs that fill the pages of those years of our history. They 
were of all kinds, civil, military, and naval, and kept Franklin constantly at 
work ; " smoothing-, aiding-, contriving-, and assisting- by word and by pen, always 
wise, always to the poinli, he steered the bark of his country to the desired 
haven." 

When the strug-g-le was over, witli John Adams, John Jay, Thomas Jefferson, 
and Henry Laurens, he made the treaty of peace with Eng-land, and sig-ned both 
the preliminary, or first treaty, and the final, or last one, in Paris. He afterward 
arrang-ed for a treaty with Prussia, in which he put an article ag-ainst privateer- 
ing- — that is, arming- private vessels and g-iving- them a rig-ht during- war to do 
what they can toward breaking- up the commerce of the enemy. " This treaty," 
said Washington, ''makes a new era in neg'otiations. It is the most liberal 
treaty which has ever been entered into by independent powers." 

After all these and many more labors, that it would fill a book to give an ac- 
count of, you may be sure he was welcomed home with the greatest honors pos- 
sible. Everybody, from the highest to the lowest, paid him their respects. But 
he had scarcely been here a month before new calls of duty were made upon him. 
For three years he was President of Pennsylvania, under the old Constitution of 
tLie State, and when the chief men of the nation were called to a general assembly 
to form the Constitution of the United States, the aged statesman was present, 
'' counseling and suggesting as ever, and pouring oil on the troubled waters of 
controversy." He made a motion that the meetings of this convention should be 
opened every day with prayer, saying : " I have lived a long time, and the longer 
I live the more convincing proofs I see of this truth, that God governs in the af- 
fairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it 
probable that an empire can rise without his aid ? " 

This was near the close of that long life, which spread over three generations of 
American history, beginning in the old Puritan time, covering- the whole of two wars, 
from the battle of Quebec to the Yorktown surrender, and seeing the entrance 
of the new era of the United States, an independent and self-governing nation. 

His last public act was to sign the memorial address presented to Congress by 
the old Abolition Society, of which he was President. When he had passed away 
and the story of his life was fully told, it was then known what a really great man 
he was. Beside his statesmanship, which was so able in small things and great, 
that the success of the Revolution was very largely due to him, he was a great 



Benjamin Franklin . 



45 



philosopher and scholar, a public benefactor, and a practical inventor and work- 
man. He made a new and very impoi-tant step in the progress of philosophy. 




and set forth new principles in politics ; "he showed his countrymen how to think 
and write ;" he published some of the first American ncAvspapers, and the famous 
" Poor Richard's Almanac." This was announced as being- edited by Richard 



46 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

8aiindors, of Philomath, and priiitod and publishod by Benjamin Frankhn, of 
Philadelphia. From the yeai- 173"v it was issued annually for a quarter of a cen- 
tury. It had a place in almost every household in the land, not only on account 
of the information it contained, but also for its shrewd and worldly-wise maxims, 
which were afterward gathered into a pamphlet called *' The Way to Wealth," 
and, being ti'anslated uito many languages, long- ag'O became a part of the world's 
stock of wise proverbs. 

Soon after he returned to Philadelphia — after his short first stay in England — 
he began to make himself felt for good in the city, although he was then but a 
vomm- printer, just of age. He g'athered his friends tog'ether into a social and 
literary club, called the Junto. It was a small circle of scriveners, joiners, and 
shoemakers, who, with Franklin for their leader, met to improve themselves, help 
mankind, their country, their friends, and each other. Everything about it was 
carried on with the same simplicity and common-sense that always marked its 
founder in whatever he did. Although its intluence was soon felt far and wide by 
branch clubs, it was never enlarged, and even its existence was kept a secret. It 
lasted for forty years, and out of it g-rew the American Philosophical Society, 
while the small collection of books, owned in common by its members, was the 
beginning of the g'reat Philadelphia Library — '• The mother of all the North 
American subscription libraries." 

Perhaps the highest praise that was ever given to this great and good man 
was spoken by Lord Chatham, in 1T75, when he said that the representative from 
America was "one whom all Europe holds in hig-h estimation for his knowledge 
and wisdom, and ranks with our Boyles and Newtons : who is an honor not to 
the English nation only, but to human nature," 

The nobility of his mind and character was due chiefly to his own efforts. His 
parents had a larger family than they could easily support, and Benjamin was 
put to work in his father's soap factory in Boston when he was ten yeai-s old ; 
but he shows in the Autobiography, or the story of his life written by liimself, how 
he educated and supi^orted himself at the same time, and by living according to 
strict rules of work, study, temperance, and honor, gradually raised himself to a 
high place among the greatest, most useful men of his own or any other time. 

Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston, ^[assachusetts, on the irth of Janu- 
ary, 170(i. He died in Philadelphia on the lUh of April, 1T90. 

It has been said that our first debt of gratitude for American liberty was due 
to three men — George Washington as a general, Benjamin Franklin as a states- 
man, and Robert Morris as a linancier. 

The lirst two men were great in many ways, and have a wide fame in more 



Robert Morris. 



47 



than one vocation, while Morris is celebrated only as a money manager. But in the 
use of his one talent and in the giving of his one vast gift he saved his adopted 
countr^^ from ruin and the labor of the other patriots from ending in failure. He 
was an EngUshman by birth, but having been brought to this country by his father 
when he was a boy, he grew up as stanch a patriot as those of the oldest Colonial 
blood. Very soon he began to show a wonderful talent for business. As a lad of 
fifteen he was put in a Philadelphia counting-house, and when he reached the age 
of twenty he became a partner in the lirm and commenced to amass a fortune. B^' 




Robert Morris. 
the time the war-cloud with England began to gather, he was a very wealthy man, 
famous for his integrity and ability. No firm in Pennsylvania— then one of the 
most important and wealthy of all the Colonies— did a larger business than that of 
Willing & Morris. But when the troubles thickened with England, he boldly sided 
with the patriots, and by assenting to what is known as the Non-importation Act 
of 1765, sacrificed a great deal of trade advantage for the sake of principle, for his 
house was then doing a large and profitable business with the mother country. 

Ten years later he was a member of the Continental Congress, and although, 
like many others, he felt that the time had not yet come to adopt it, he signed the 
Declaration of Independence. For several years after, he served on the Commit- 
tee of Ways and Means, and by his careful management and judicious advice 
upon money matters was of the greatest service to the cause. When our little 



48 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Treasury grew low, or was empty, and Cong-ress was very close to failure, he 
gave all he had himself, and horrowed large sums of money on his own credit, 
or used the honorable name of his firm to obtain funds which Avould never have 
been risked to Congress, whose cause seemed very likely to fail anyway. But 
Robert Morris's name was as good as the gold, and when the destitute troops 
were on the verge of an outbreak among themselves, and Washington was 
almost in despair, the signature of the honored merchant raised fifteen millions of 
dollars from the French, and made it possible for the Commander to carry for- 
ward his last campaign and force the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, 

Morris did even more than give his own wealth and borrow from others on his 
own credit, when that of the United States would not be accepted ; he under- 
took the difficult task of arranging some system by which the funds needed to 
carry out our plans might be raised, and by Avhich the nation might have credit 
and revenues in the place of the poverty and bankruptcy that then existed. 
Finally, in 1781, Congress decided that the only thing to be done toward better- 
ing the state of our money matters was to appoint some able man to look after 
them, and so they decided that the Government should have a Superintendent of 
Finance, and Robert Morris was appointed to fill the office. It then became his 
duty not only to look after the use of all the funds in the Treasury, which, with 
the vast needs of the war and the scarcity of money, was a great task, but he 
had also to settle upon some plan for raising tho public revenues in a way that 
would be as easy as possible to the people, and would not bear harder on one than 
another. One of the first things he did was to found the Bank of North America. 
Over sixty years before, John Colman had proposed, in New England, a plan for 
a joint-stock corporation to carry on a money-lending business, whose notes, 
properly secured, should become a currency for general use. The scheme met 
with no favor then, but a few years later it was taken up by Massachusetts, and 
in a little while many other Colonies tried the experiment of lending money to be 
applied toward public expense, and for the use of which interest was paid every 
year. The wise and far-seeing statesman, Benjamin Franklin, approved highly 
of the plan, and those who tried it found it a profitable business. But it was 
only a venture, and was tried by but a few of the Colonies before the Revolution 
broke out. Now Morris proposed to carry it out on a more serious and larger 
scale, and with the advice of his two able friends, Alexander Hamilton and 
Gouverneur Morris, it was laid before Congress, from which the Bank of North 
America, of the State of Pennsylvania, received its charter on the last day of the 
vear 1781. 

So far successful, Morris began to establish the bank at once. By putting 
forth great efforts and sparing no pains he induced important people in the coun- 



. Robert 3Iorris. 49 

try to subscribe to it and to put gold and silver money in its vaults. Thomas 
Paine, whose famous "Common-sense" papers had done so much six and seven 
years before to rouse the people to patriotism and to call out volunteers for the 
rank and file of the army, was now Clerk in the Pennsylvania Assembly. He 
subscribed five hundred dollars to the bank himself, and used his talent for writ- 
ing" and every other means in his power to help the institution along-. 

Before long the bank's credit was established, and Morris was able to relieve 
the suffering army. During the first six months of its existence it loaned to the 
Government four hundred thousand dollars, and to the State of Pennsylvania 
eighty thousand dollars. It proved a thorough success. The charter was re- 
newed several times ; from a State bank it was made a National one in 1864 ; and, 
although it was only intended as a security to those who would lend money to 
aid the Government, it proved profitable to its stockholders, for from 1792 to 
1875 it paid them over ten cents a year for the use of every dollar they had in it. 
It is still in existence, one of the oldest institutions in the country. 

It is well known that Mr. Morris had complete control of the national funds 
during the three most trying years we ever had in money affairs, but the great- 
ness of his work can scarcely be understood now, for there was then not so strong 
a bond between the States as at present. There was jealousy and distrust be- 
tween them, so that it was not easy to get them to act together. Moreover, money 
was scarce with all, and manj'^ were very poor. 

Besides all the work and care of these money operations and looking after the 
way in which the funds were used, which would require an entire bureau nowadays, 
Mr. Morris carried another burden almost as heavy, in the management of the Navy 
Department, equipping fleets and supplying the needs of our warriors on the sea. 

When victory came, it relieved the generals and the soldiers, but it brought no 
rest to the statesmen and the financier. Morris made many eloquent and constant 
appeals to the States, calling upon them, in the name of duty and policy, to give 
each its share to pay the duties levied on imports. But little response came, and 
not until he was thoroughly disheartened and wanted to resign, did Congress pass 
resolutions for aid. The Government could not spare his services, and so he toiled 
on until the latter part of the year 1784. 

After the war, he Avas twice a member of the Pennsylvania Legislature, and 
helped to frame the Federal Constitution, He served as a Senator afterward, 
and more than once was pressed by Washington to accept the office of Secretary 
of the Treasury in his Cabinet. But he refused tliis office, and named Alexander 
Hamilton as one better able to fill it than himself. 

After his term as Senator was over, he went out of public life with less than 
half the wealth he had when he entered it. Being still in the prime of life_, he 



50 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

entered into business again, and built up a large East India trade. In the same 
year that he resigned the office of financier, he sent the Empress of China from 
NcAv York to Canton, the first American vessel that ever entered that port. He 
also marked out a course to China, by which the dangerous winds that sweep over 
the Eastern seas at some seasons of the 3^ear might be avoided, and, to prove the 
wisdom of following this course, he sent out a vessel that made a successful trip 
over it. After awhile he bought a great deal of land in the western part of New 
York, then the wild frontier. But the investment proved a failure, and Mr. Mor- 
ris lost about all that he had. The great man who had saved the American 
armies from mutiny and famine, who had redeemed the credit of his State and his 
adopted country, had made his wealth the nation's, and staked his own spotless 
reputation for her sake, spent his last years in poverty and debt. Neither his 
country nor his State came forward to relieve his distress, although for their needs 
he had given everything he had, excepting his honor — there never was a shadow 
cast on that, either in public or in private life — and they o\Yed him princely fort- 
unes in debts of gratitude. 

Robert Morris was born in Lancaster, England, June, 1734. He died in Phila- 
delphia, May 8, 1806. 

Robert Morris's assistant in managing the money affairs of the country during 
the Revolution was his illustrious friend, Gouverneur Morris, of New York. 
He was one of the first lawyers and statesmen in the land, and had made patriotic 
speeches at the Continental Congress which placed him among the most eloquent 
men of that noble and talented assembly. He had a fine face, and a straight, 
handsome figure, which looked so much like George Washington's, that while in 
Paris he stood for the figure of Houdon's statue of Washington. 

For many years there was scarcely a national meeting of any importance held, 
to which Gouverneur Morris was not sent by New York as long as he lived in that 
State, and afterward by Pennsylvania. We are told that his speech in favor of 
independence, in the first Congress, was as remarkable for logical force as Patrick 
Henry's for fiery eloquence. But his counsel and wisdom were even greater than 
his eloquence, and having a wonderful foresight, his advice in regard to laying 
plans for future events are now believed to have been of the greatest importance 
to the country. He saw ahead what progress we should make and how we should 
want to grow, and it is to his forethought that we owe a great many of the 
wise provisions in our national plans which have been found so valuable as the 
country has grown. 

When only eighteen years old, he began to write a series of articles in the news- 
papers, upon the great science of political economy, which was then almost un- 



Gouverneur Morris. 51 

heard of in America. Questions of trade, debt and credit, exchange and currency 
were taken up and laid before the people with such originality, acute reasoning, 
and thorough knowledge, that mature and thoughtful men were amazed at the 
boy who could write them, but at the same time they were instructed, and these 
papers, and the financial essays written later, both " taught and influenced pubhc 
sentiment, and prepared the way for whatever liberal and enlightened policy on 
this and kindred subjects was adopted." 

When, in 1787, a call was made for delegates from each State to form a con- 
vention to talk over and frame a Constitution for the new government, Gouver- 
neur Morris was chosen as one to represent the State of Pennsylvania. 

With all his mind and will, sacrificing his own feelings and interests, and being 
without the sympathy of his family and old friends, he joined in the work and 
the cause of American freedom, and history gives him a place among our most 
courageous, pure-minded patriots, while the people of his own times praise him 
for his self-respect and simplicity, and say that in force and intellect, as well as 
^,n figure and features, he was one of the most commanding of men. 

He was the friend of Washington, Schuyler, and Greene, of Robert Morris, 
Hamilton, and Clinton, of Paul Jones and of Jefferson. The army, the navy, and 
the affairs of state were upon his mind and heart, and whether at home or abroad 
the leaders in American progress had in him an able friend and adviser. 

In later years he did a great deal for our trade by securing easier terms in our 
commercial treaties, and for two years he represented the United States at the 
Court of France. Returning home, he was United States Senator for three years, 
and after that, wiiile living quietly upon his family estates in Morrisania, above New 
York City, his interest and aid went out to all the great movements of the day. 
He was one of the first to see the need of some means of connecting the interior 
part of the country with the Atlantic sea-board, and brought forward what was 
then thought to be the wild idea of the Erie Canal. The plan, which was first pro- 
posed by Jesse Hawley, was said to be ridiculous and impossible; but Morris kept 
on talking about it and showing how it could be carried out, until finally, after 
his death, when De Witt Clinton, Peter Cooper, and others took it up, the great 
feat was accomplished, and trade was opened between the center of the continent 
and the ports and cities of the Eastern States. It was Gouverneur Morris, too, 
who succeeded in having laid out the few broad avenues there are in New 
York, and urged that the city be surveyed as far as Harlem, which was then 
thought to be much farther into the country than the population of New York 
would ever extend. But in this, as in many other matters, less than one century 
has proved that he could see further into the future of the American nation than 
almost any man of his time. 



52 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Gouvcrneur Morris was born January 31, 1753, in that part of New York City 
callocl Morrisania, where lie also died on the 6th of November, 1816. 

When Robert Morris, the financier of the Revolution, made the sug"g"estion 
that Alexander Haiiiiltoii be Secretary of the Treasury in President WashiuE;-- 
ton's Cabinet, he selected from a larg-e company of able statesmen the g-reatest 
political ii'enius that America has ever had. "Next to Georg-e Washington," 
said Chief Justice Marshall, " there has been no one to whom our Republic owes 
more." A full quarter of a century young'er than Washington, and from ten to 
twenty years younger than almost all the other leading- statesmen of his day, as a 
financier, a politician, a lawyer, and an orator, he had no equal. He was not 
an American born, and his public life lasted onl^'- thirty years, jQt in that time he 
made so deep an impression upon our country and our g'overnment, that "his prin- 
ciples of finance, of foreig'u affairs, of political economy, and of the powers and 
duties of g'overnment under the Constitution may be found on evei'y pag"e of our 
history, and have sway to-day throughout the length and breadth of the land." 

He took pai't in drawing up our laws and Constitution, explained them to the 
people, desig-ned many of our g-reat institutions, and g"ave our rough and new- 
formed nation the pattern of a fine lawyer, a courag'eous, noble, upright states- 
man, and a thorough gentleman. 

This man, whose name stands out so g-randly on the pag'es of our history, was 
born in the West Indies, a British subject. His father was a Scotchman, and his 
mother was a beautiful, witty French Huguenot woman. She died when he was 
but a little boy, and, his father being' poor, Alexander was broug-ht up by his 
mother's relatives. When twelve vears of age he was taken as clerk in a count- 
ing"-room, and set to a work that he could not bear. In writing- to one of his boy 
friends about his place, he said he would willingly risk his life, though not his 
character, to get above it; there was no chance to rise at present, "but," he said, 
"I mean to prepare the wa,y for futurity." So, in leisure from his office work 
— which he took pains to do well, Avhether he liked it or not — he read Plutarch and 
Pope, and many other authors. He also wi'ote a good deal, and one composition 
describing a severe hurricane that crossed the West Indies was published, and 
attracted so much notice that his relatives decided that he was too talented a boy 
to be neglected by them, and that he deserved a better chance than he could have 
in the office of a West Indian merchant. So it happened that, in 17T3, he came 
b}^ ship to Boston, and from there to New York, which was ever afterward his 
home. He knew no one when he came, but the letters of a good old friend in the 
Indies secured for him a few good new ones here. 

His main object was to get an education, and he lost no time in becoming a 



Alexander Hamilton. 



5S 



pupil in the celebrated grammar-school at Elizabethtown, New Jersey, which was 
reckoned one of the best in the country. After a year's hard study, with odd mo- 
ments used in writing- hymns, elegies, and verses of all sorts, he returned to New 
York and entered King's College, which is now Columbia College. Although 
Hamilton was only sixteen then, he was very anxious to get ahead, and had a tutor's 
private lessons beside his regular college work, and soon pushed far beyond his 
class. People said, " That little West Indian will make his mark some daj-." And 




Alexander Hamilton. 
the day was not long in coming. After he had been here about two years, he went 
up to Boston for a visit, and found the city full of excitement about the way Great 
Britain was treating the Colonies. For some time he did not know which country 
to side with, for such an energetic, restless, ambitious young man as he must join 
one or the other. Finally, he resolved that it should be against the English. 

When a great, open-air meeting was announced, to urge New York to join the 
other Colonies in preparing for a Congress, Hamilton went to hear the speakers. 
But he was disappointed ; they seemed to him to leave the best things unsaid, and 
suddenly he felt that he could say what they had left out, and he found himself 
moving toward the platform, and on it, before the great mass of people. The 



54 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

crowd stared at this small, slig-ht youth with the dark skm and the deep-set ej^es, 
who was so bold as to come before them. For a minute he, too, felt himself out 
of place, and could not find the words he was going- to use, but again a minute 
and out they came, carrying " the eloquence of sound reason and clear logic, com- 
bined with great power and clearness of expression, and backed by a strong and 
passionate nature." He poured out the thoughts he felt the other orators had 
left unspoken. Some people in the crowd, stirred by his oratory, murmured, " It 
is a collegian ! " " It is a collegian ! " whispered others, and his hearers forgot or 
forgave it, that he was a stranger and only a boy. 

This was the first stroke of Hamilton's " mark in the world." It was the be- 
ginning of thirty years of public life that only closed with his death. He was " in 
for Congress," and was ready to do all in his power in the American cause. 

He answered the Tory pamphlets so ably that they were at first believed to 
have come from the most eminent men of the party ; and when he became known 
as their author, he was famous at once. The leaders gave him a sure position and 
caused the Tories— or Americans who, siding with Great Britain, were opposed to in- 
dependence—to make him tempting offers to join their side, which offers he refused. 

Now his great work was vigorous essays against England, speeches at public 
meetings, and his leisure was given to the study of military affairs and practice 
in a volunteer corps. He took a prominent part in everything connected Avith New 
York in the troubles that noAv gathered, showing zeal and enthusiasm, wisely 
guided by self-restraint and cool bravery. " In the midst of revolutionary ex- 
citement he did not hesitate to come forward to check his own party, to oppose 
and censure their excesses, and to take the side of the unpopular minority in be- 
half of mercy, justice, order, free speech, and a free press." 

Early in 177G he took command of an artillery company, upon which he spent 
his second and last remittance from his relatives, in equipments. This company 
was so well trained that General Greene's attention was drawn to it, and he was so 
impressed by the young captain's talent that he introduced him to General Wash- 
ington. He showed his worth soon after this at the sorry battle of Long Island, 
and after the battles of White Plains, Trenton, and Princeton, he was as famous 
for gallantry in the field as for literary talent. In the early part of the second 
year of the war, he became one of Washington's aids, witli the rank of lieutenant- 
colonel. The Commander-in-Chief soon felt his worth so much that he employed 
him as secretary, confiding to him his most secret thoughts, choosing him before 
any others to carry out his most important business, and using his aid in planning 
campaigns and devising means to support the army. 

The next year j^oung Hamilton took an active part in the battle of Monmouth, 
but already he was getting deeplj^ interested in the money affairs of the country. 



Alexander Hamilton. 55 

and had written a number of public letters upon the subject. In 1781 he left the 
army to devote himself to another department of the country's work, although 
he went back to it again in about five months, and took command of a battalion 
in Washing-ton's army. On the 14th of October he stormed and took a redoubt 
himself, and was at the head of his command in the siege of Yorktown. After 
the surrender, he turned to the study of law, and, although he kept his rank in 
the army, he refused to receive any pay. 

It has been said that whatever he did in the war was well done, but his place 
in history is rather due to services as a statesman than as a soldier. He was not 
old enough to obtain large chances, and although he proved hhnself to have 
courage, dash, and coolness, and showed both nerve and foresight, the commanders 
felt that he was too young a man to have positions of great responsibihty. But 
as a statesman nothing could keep him from the front. 

The first year of peace, he was sent to the Continental Congress by New York, 
and was one of the leading and most useful men there from the first. " No one," 
said Washington, ''has greater probity and virtue than Hamilton." But that 
Congress was made up of a different set of men from those who drew forth the 
praise of all Europe in 1774 and 1775. He brought all his power of mind and 
speech to bear upon the affairs before the Assembly, while "his winning elo- 
quence was the wonder and delight of friend and foe," as one of his hearers 
said ; he was able to do very little in that evil time which made the i^rospects of 
our nation look so gloomy at the close of the war. In less than a year he re- 
signed and began to practise law in New York. Although his preparation had 
been small, he rose at once to first rank among the lawyers of the countr3^ He 
was equal to Webster as a reasoner, far beyond him in creative power, and had 
both force and nre as an orator. He was always at work. There are no bare 
spots in his life, and even while he was bus^^ with his own cases and clients, his 
interest went out and his labors were put forth toward all matters of national 
importance. 

When the feeling of the people in New York went too far against the Tories, it 
was Hamilton — stanch an American as he was — who stood up against their 
being persecuted. As a member of the Abolition Society, of which Benjamin 
Franklin was President, he made the resolution that each member of it should set 
his own slaves free. A few years later he was leader in the movement toward a 
firm and durable union of the States, and a member of the convention to form a 
Federal Constitution, for the country was much divided, and a loss of credit and 
of trade was being seriousl^^ felt because of the want of strong and united govern- 
ment. Congress had become so weak that it was driven by the insults and 
menaces of a small body of unruly soldiers from the regular meeting-place in 



56 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Philadelphia, to Priiicetoiio The polished and able statesman, Gouverneur Morris, 
said that Hamilton's chief speech before the convention was " the most able and 
impressive he ever heard," and when the plan of g-overnment was adopted, he 
signed the Constitution, and did all in his power to have it ratified \)y the people, 
although he had offered a different plan himself, which was not accepted. Not 
satisfied witli speeches alone, he united with James Madison and John Jay in 
writing- a series of papers, or essays upon the Constitution, which were printed in 
the New York Oazette, and were afterward made up into several volumes, called 
*' The Federalist." As Hamilton wrote more than half of these wise and also 
brilliant essays, which all parties recognize as the best commentary ever written 
on the Constitution of the United States, "The Federalist" is deemed one of 
his two greatest services rendered oui* country. And although the Constitution 
was strongly opposed by a powerful party, it was at last accepted mainly thi'ough 
the influence of these essays, and Hamilton's name has been passed around the 
world as one of the men who have best known upon what principles and laws a 
g-reat g-overnment should be built up. 

But Hamilton's most important \vork of all was in the country's finances, — in 
the three g-reat projects known as the assumption of the State debts, the Funding- 
Act, and the National Bank. These chang-ed the bankruptcy of the new nation 
into solvency and honor, and to him is due the credit of having solved the prob- 
lem, of first importance at the ' ime, and that which underlay every other matter 
to be met by the new government. 

The experiment of Robeit Morris's Bank of North America proved the value 
of an institution " which should make loans to the Government as well as to pri- 
vate individuals ; which should take and place Government bonds as our ' syndi- 
cates ' do now ; and which should furnish the people with a secure paper currency 
to supplement the limited amount of coin in circulation. But Hamilton held that 
the Bank of North Arxierica had then become a State institution and that a 
National Bank should be oi'g-anized. England had such a one, and France also. 
With a foresight which the experience of the country with greenbacks at a later 
day proved correct, he objected to the issue of paper money directly by the Gov- 
ernment, saying- that it is of a nature so liable to abuse, and it may even be affirmed, 
so certain of being- abused, that the wisdom of the Government will be shown in 
never trusting- itself in the use of so seducing- and dang-erous an expedient." All 
this he laid before Congress, recommending- a Bank of the United States, and his 
plan was adopted and the bank incorporated in 1791. The North favored it and 
the South opposed it from the very first, but the plan was carried out with suc- 
cess, although there was such a strong feeling- against it, that the charter was not 
renewed when it expired in 18 11, but after the money panic and the war troubles of 



John Adams. 5•^ 

1812, another was g-iven, and the second Bank of the United States was chartered 
in 1816. This expired in twenty years and was never again renewed. 

Hamilton's plans for the money matters of the country had not heen long- in 
use before public credit was restored and life and prosperity came back to trade 
and industry. He was warmly in favor of a protective tariff — that is, a tax on 
foreign goods brought into this country for sale — so as to encourage the people to 
take up trades and manufactures, and to supply the market with g'oods made in 
this country, rather than to import them from other lands. 

He is often spoken of as the great Federalist, for he was for years the leader 
of the political party known as the Federalists, whose chief aim, when it was 
formed, was to unite the States into one government. Washing-ton, Franklin, 
Adams, and a great many other of the ablest men of the times were the founders of 
the party, and it is due to them that we have one united Government binding- all the 
States together, instead of a country made up of many independent, or almost in- 
dependent. States, as was the desire of the Anti-Federalist party, of which Sam uel 
Adams and Patrick Henry were the g-reat leaders. 

It could not be possible that a man of so many affairs, so attractive in looks 
and manners, and of such power, should be without faults or without enemies. 
But while Hamilton was often sharp, severe, and confident of himself, he had a 
very g-enerous nature, and often set aside all personal feeling- to support the meas- 
ures of other men, when he thought them right. He was also courageous enough 
to bring his influence to bear squarely ag-ainst those he thought unworthy. Twice 
this was the case with Aaron Burr, a brilhant and able man, but, in the opinion of 
Hamilton, one not to be trusted. After securing- Jefferson's election as President 
against Burr, and defeating him also in the contest for Governor of New York, 
Burr insolently called for an explanation from Hamilton, and finally challeng-ed 
him to fight a duel. Hamilton felt in honor bound to accept his enemy's challeng-e, 
but purposely shot in the air, while Burr's bullet made a mortal wound, and the 
brightest, ablest, and purest-minded statesman in America was killed. 

Alexander Hamilton was born in the West Indian island of Nevis, January 11, 
1757. He died in New York City July 12, 1804. 

The first public act of John Adams was in the year 1765. The citizens of 
Braintree, Massachusetts, had called a meeting to talk over the new law requir- 
ing- stamps to be put on all paper used in business, and on all newspapers that 
were bought. The stamps often cost a g-reat deal, too — the price being- set accord- 
ing to the business they were used in. There was a very strong- feeling- ag-ainst 
the tax in all the Colonies, and Adams offered resolutions or instructions resisting 
it, to be sent by the town to the Legislature. They were accepted by Braintree 
and adopted by forty other towns in the Colony. 



58 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

From this time forth John Adams was a piibhc man. He moved to Boston, 
where his talents were already known, and soon became the chief lawyer for the 
patriots. Thus, through his profession, he g-rew to he one of the foremost leaders 
in the cause of American liberty. After the Stamp Act was i-epealed he wrote 
patriotic articles in the Boston Gazette, some of which wei-e copied in a London 
journal and made a good deal of a stir. He was elected to the Legislature, and 
in a few years more, when the Boston Tea-party had roused the people into action 
against the mother country, John Adams was one of the five Massachusetts mem- 
bers in the first Cong-ress. He was as ardent here as he had been in Boston, 
speaking" earnestly for independence, and was chosen to work with Jeffei'son in 
preparing- the Declaration of Independence, although it is now believed that the 
great membei- from Virginia drcAv up this noble paper entirely by himself. 

But on the 2Stli of June it was the tall, stout, well-knit figure of Adams that, 
with the precious roll in hand, rose before Congress, in his grave and impressive 
manner, and it was the large head and expansive brow^ of the Massachusetts 
member upon which the assembly- looked, while the eyes that so often beamed 
with fun now shone with earnestness and patriotism, as the voice so often heard 
pouring out strong and able arguments for rights and liberty broke forth into 
the stirring Avortls, '■ When in the course of human events it becomes necessary 
for one people to dissolve," etc. 

Many members of the Congress were opposed to this paper, and there were 
strong debates on both sides ; but, says Jefferson, "Adams was the ablest advo- 
cate and champion of independence on the floor of the nouse. He was the Colos- 
sus of that Congress. He came out with a power which moved his heai'ers from 
their seats." 

In the storm of war which followed this thunder-clap, Adams did not buckle 
on the sword and turn soldier as well as statesman, but he still kept hard at 
work, for war requires as able men out of the fight as in it. He was chair- 
man of twent3''-five committees in Congress ; he almost created and then looked 
after all the War Department we had, and also took chai'ge of manj^ impor 
tant matters between this countrj'^ and Europe, and visited France, England, 
and Holland on public business. After the war he went to Europe, and, with 
Franklin, Jay, Jefferson, and Laurens, settled the treaty of peace with England. 
A few years later lie was the fii'st regular Ambassador or Minister from the 
United States to England. He soon came back from this tiip and was made Vice- 
President. He was very earnest in supporting Washington, and in the Senate 
gave about twenty casting votes — probably more, it is said, than all the Vice-Pres- 
idents since. Nearly all of these were to support Washington's policy or on some 
important new law. 



John Adams. 



59 



After Washington had been President for eight years he refused to fill the 
office for another term, and the first part}^ contest for electing a President was 
held. There were five important men in the field, but the largest number of votes 
were cast for Adams, and the next largest for JefTerson. So, as that was the 
way in which the President and Vice-President were elected at first, these two 
men, who had once been warm friends, but were now enemies through some differ- 
ences of views, stood together once more as leaders of the people. But in the old 




John Adams. 



Declaration days they were both on the same side ; now the President was at the 
head of the old Federal party, while the Vice-President was leader of the new 
Republican party, which afterward changed its name and became better known as 
the Democratic party. 

Mr. Adams was full of large and noble qualities ; he was more affectionate and 
warm-hearted than he often showed by his manner ; he loved his fellow-men, and 
delighted in society and conversation, but he had a violent temper, although it 
soon cooled. He was very energetic and honest himself, and he could not endure 
cant or h^^ocrisy. But there was one other fault which probably harmed his 
political influence more than any other — that is, the confidence in himself which 



Go One Hundred Famous Americans. 

made him impatient and jealous of any opposition to his own settled views. 
This he could not hear, and often resented with his quick temper and sharp 
words. 

As President, he pretty closely followed Washing-ton's example, keeping- the old 
(Cabinet. He Avould not Join ^vith France in the war with England, pai'tly broug-ht 
on by France's pai't in the American Revolution. The nation was not then fit to g-et 
into another war; hut the French Directory were displeased, and violated the 
vig'hts of the United States at sea, and sent home her envo3's. Then, without con- 
sulting- his Cabinet, for he knew they woukl oppose it. President Adams took the 
responsibility of sending- another Ambassador to France, who was received. This 
threw the Cabinet into confusion, and roused bad feeling in both parties; but it 
has passed into histoiy as the most courageous act of his life, and one of the bold- 
(^st strokes of American statesmanship, for it saved the country from a war at a 
time when the nation could not have endured it. 

The President and the Federalists in Cong-ress also lost favor with the people 
by passing- what are called the Alien and Sedition Laws, the first of which al- 
lowed the President to arrest any alien, or foreig-ner, in the United States who 
1 night seem to be dang-erous ; while under the Sedition Law any one who should 
speak evil of the Government could be punished. 

Meanwhile, the new party g-rew stronger every year, and at the close of 
Adams's tei'ui of office, Jefferson was elected in his place. 

Mr. Adams felt very badly, and did not even wait to see the new President take 
the chair. He suddenly fell from a high place to almost nothing- in the eyes of 
the people, and went quietly out of public life to the Massachusetts town where 
he was born, the name of which had been chang-ed meanwhile from Bramtree to 
Quincy. His own party, too, turned against him, and he seemed to receive noth- 
ing- but spite from either. Settled in comfort and plenty upon his New Eng-land 
estates, he spent a g-reat deal of time in writing:, and these articles, which were 
published in the newspa]iers, g-radually showed the people how g-reat a mistake 
Ihey had made in their treatment of the man who had tried to serve them faith- 
fully for nearly forty years. The public g-rew to love and venerate him and to 
I'egret that they had allowed party feeling- to blind them to the virtues of their 
great statesman. He was spoken of as "noble old John Adams," and finally he 
had the pleasure of seeing- his son, John Quincy Adams, made President. But the 
most beautiful thing- that came about after these sad latter davs was that he and 
Jefferson grew to be friends again, and wrote letters to each other as long- as they 
lived. The end, too, came for each on the same day. The hand that penned the 
Declaration of Independence — the grreatest paper in American history — and the 
voice that, after calling- for it among- the loudest, presented it and plead for it, 



John Hancock. 61 

were both stilled by death on the fiftieth anniversary of the day in which Congress 
adopted it. 

John Adams was born in Braintree — now Quincj^ — Massachusetts, on the 19th 
of October, 1735, and died at the same place July 4, 1826. 

In the times before the Revolution, John Adams's name was oftener linked 
with those of John Hancock, James Otis, and Samuel Adams, than with any 
others in that large and noble company of New England patriots. Of these, 
Samuel Adams was the leading man. 

John Hiiiicock was a member of the Massachusetts Legislature, boldly 
standing up for liberty, about the time of tlie Stamp Act. He was one of the 
richest men in New England, led the best society in the Colony, and did a larger 
merchant business than almost any one else. About the first of the Boston out 
breaks against the British was caused by the King's officers seizing his sloo]> 
Libert}/ and charging her with hiding forbidden goods. The people turned out 
in indignation and treated his majesty's officers so roughly that they had to race 
to the fort in the harbor for safety, and leave their burning boat to the Americans. 
In 1773, Hancock was one who helped along the Tea Riot, and soon after made the 
bold and eloquent oration upon the victims of the " Boston Massacre " of 1770, at 
which the royal government took such great offense, that the eff oi't was made to 
seize Hancock and Samuel Adams, which caused the fight at Concord. 

There were few men at that time whose courage and patriotism were as great 
as Hancock's. He was leader of the Republican party in New England, had been 
a member of the General Assembly, was made President of the Provincial Con- 
gress of Massachusetts, and in 1774 was chosen to the high office of President of 
the Continental Congress at Philadelphia. When the Declaration of Independ- 
<'nce was made in July it contained only the signatures of Secretary Charlefj 
Thompson and President Hancock, who said, when he had finished writing hiH 
name in large, bold letters, " The British ministry can read that name without 
their spectacles. Let them double their reward." By this he meant the largo 
reward that had been offered the year before for the arrest of himself and Samuel 
Adams, who were considered arch-rebels agamst King George, and were the only 
two men excepted in the pardon offered by General Gage after the fight in 
old King Street, now known as the " Boston Massacre." 

Hancock had to leave Congress on account of his health, but he was soon 
called upon to help make his State's Constitution, and to become its first Governor. 
Excepting for a short time, when he declined the office, he was at the head of the 
Massachusetts commonwealth during the rest of his life. 

John Hancock was born at Braintree — now Quincy — Massachusetts, January 
12, 1737. He died in Boston October 8, 1793. 



62 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

James Otis was, it is believed, the f^reatest of early New Eng-land orators, 
and one of its ablest men. He was a leading- lawyer in Boston from the time he 
first settled there in 1748 ; but it was thirteen years after that when he broke 
forth with his finest burst of eloquence ag-ainst the Writs of Assistance, before the 
General Courts of Massachusetts. These Writs of Assistance were general 
search-warrants, which allowed the officers of the king- to break open any 
citizen's store or dwelling- to search for contraband merchandise ; and, as they 
opened the way to many abuses, the people were very much roused ag-ainst them. 
When Otis rose to defend th(; riglits of the people ag-ainst this unjust measure, 

he was, says John Adams, "a fiame of fire He hurried away 

all before him. American independence was then and there born." The ora- 
tor soon became the foremost leader of the popular party in Massachusetts, 
and held a high place in the Legislature for his ability and his eloquence. It 
was upon his motion that a congress of representatives of the various Colonies 
should meet, that the celebrated " Stamp Act Cong-ress " was held in New York 
in 1765. 

For several j'^ears Mr. Otis held the office of Judge Advocate under the Crown, 
but as he saw the g'overnment making- one effort after another to enslave the 
Colonies, he made up his mind that he would not even practice his profession 
under royal right, and gave up his paying- office two years after the g-reat 
meeting in New York. He was now, both as a speaker and a writer of political 
l)aniphlets, foremost among- the patriots of the North. 

When the news reached Boston that a body of armed Britishers were coming- 
to keep the city in order, Otis was looked to as the counsellor of the people. He 
w;xs chosen moderator of the town meeting that first gathered at Faneuil 
Hall, but being- found too larg-e for that room, adjourned to the Old South Chui-ch ; 
and in the pulpit of that old house Otis poured forth his preachings upon the 
sacred rig-hts of liberty— moderation first, but, if resistance was necessary, resist- 
ance to death. 

But "all through the great struggle to which his eloquence had excited his 
countryuKMi, James Otis was like a blasted ]iine upon the mountains." A political 
enemy by a blow on the head had so wrecked his reason that after the autumn of 
1769 he was never wholly in his right mind for any leng-th of time, althoug-h he 
returned to the Leg-islature in 1771, and there were times when he could even 
practice his profession, but his usefulness was g-one. A man named Robinson 
was sentenced to pay ten thousand dollars for this assault, but Mr. Otis forg-ave 
him the deed and had the fine remitted. 

James Otis was born at Barnstable, Massachusetts, February 5, 1725. He 
was killed b^^ lightning- in Andover, Massachusetts, May 23, 1783. 



^^fe^^/ 






<^c:t.yry^^t. 







C'Ccf^'in'l^ 



^,^^ 












f ■ — — 













1 "^'^^^Jh-F^ 







Facsimile of the Signatures to the Declaration of Independence. 



64 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

It has been said that the title of the Father of America helongrs more truly to 
Saiiiuol Atlaius than to anj- other man, for it was he who awoke the Colonies 
to the desire for independence which Washington led forth the armies to achieve. 
He was not a great oratoi- — Hancock. Otis, and many whose names are now 
forgotten, were more eloiinent than Adams — but he was a g'reat, moving, in- 
dt^pendiMit spirit, who knew how and when to act, and who gave his life wholly to 
the service of his country from the time he Avas about thirty years old. He was a 
Harvard graduate, when it meant a great deal to have been to any college ; he 
had learned all classes of people in the office of tax-g-atherer ; he had been a plain 
member and a clerk of the Massachusetts Assembly, and when there came to be 
a real party opposed to the British yoke, Samuel Adams was a bold and leading- 
member of it. 

In ]\Iav, lilU, ten years before the Revolution broke out, it was he who first 
spoke forth, for Boston and all Anu^rica, a protest against Lord Grenville's plan 
for taxing the Colonies. He was one of the most active members of the Colonial 
Legislature, and John Adams describes him, in his diary, as '-zealous, ardent, and 
keen in the cause, always for softness, delicacy, and prudence when they Avill do., 
but stanch and stiff and strict and rigid and inflexible in the cause." 

The next year he origii'ated the idea of the Colonial Cong-ress, and afterward 
advocated the Continental Congress. It was his boldness as spokesman of the 
committee that seciu'ed the removal of the troops after the '' Boston INIassacre ;" and 
although at first, in the Philadelphia Congress, he coimseled settling- our troubles 
peaceably if we coidd, no one did more than he to bring about the separation 
from England. '* Step by step, inch by inch, he fought the enemies of liberty dur- 
ing the dark hours before the Revolution.*' excited the people to throAving the te& 
in Boston Harbor and other acts resisting- the tyranny of Great Britain; and 
counseled courage and perseverance in the hearts of those who feared the results. 
When some of the members of the Continental Congress doubted the success of 
the effort, Adams exclaimed: "I should advise persisting in our struggle for 
liberty, though it were revealed from Heaven that ninety-nine A\ere to perish and 
only one of a thousand Avere to survive and retain his liberty 1 Cue such freeman 
must possess more virtue and enjoy more happiness than a thousand slaA^es, and 
his children may have Avhat he has so nobly preserved." 

He signed the' Declaration and Avas one of the most useful members of the Con- 
tinental Cong-ress from the beginning- to the close of the Revolution. ]\Iueh of the 
success of the patriots is due to the uulustry and juilgment of this hard-Avorking- 
member, Avho is noAV sometimes called the helmsman of the Revolution. 

After the surrender at Yorktown, he left Congress, but on gonig back to Massa- 
chusetts, Avas not alloAved to rest from public life. He Avas called to help in re- 



Patrick Henry. 65 

org-aniziiig the Commonwealth, and, after the death of Hancock, was elected to the 
office of Governor year after year, until he was seventy-five years old and no 
longer able to carry its cares. 

When Mr, Adams was an old man, his son died and left him enough to live on. 
Before that he was always poor, and in middle life, when his children were little, 
his first Avife supported the famOy. 

Samuel Adams was horn in Boston, September 27, 1722, and died in the same 
city October 2, 1803. 

The rich and most loyal commonwealth of Virginia was not so ready to resist 
the oppression of Great Britain as the leading- Colonies of the North. The Legis- 
lature — or House of Burgesses — had almost reached the close of its session in 1765 
without taking any decided measure upon the Stamp Act, when, one day, a tall 
and slender 3"0ung man, unknown to many in that splendid assembly, arose to 
speak. It was Patrick Henry, a new member, and a lawyer from Louisa 
County. 

The rich planters were amazed and indignant, that this raw lawyer, unprac- 
ticed in statesmanship, should be so bold as to address the house upon so impor- 
tant a subject. But Henry had something to say, and soon held the attention of 
every member. He offered a brief set of resolutions, setting forth that the Bur- 
gesses and the Governor had the exclusive right and power to lay taxes and im- 
ports on the people of this Colony, and that not only the Stamp Act, but all acts 
of Parliament affecting the rights of the Colonies, were not according to the Con- 
stitution and therefore void. This was entirely too bold for a large number of the 
members and raised a great storm, but Henry would not yield. The old walls 
rung with the powerful enthusiasm and mighty force of his words, and even the 
most patriotic were surprised when he blazed forth: " Ca?sar liad his Brutus, 
Charles the First his CroniAvell, and George the Third " " Treason ! Trea- 
son ! " broke in the presiding officer and the members, after which the orator 
finished in a calmer tone, " may profit by their example. If this be treason, 
make the most of it." 

The resolutions were adopted, and from that time forth Patrick Henry has 
stood among the first and greatest of American orators. He was a zealous patriot, 
and became a power in the Colonies. He took a leading part among Virginians 
in all the important affairs that followed this stand against the King, keeping up 
his profession meanwhile with what would have been wonderful ability for a man 
far better educated than he ; for Patrick Henry was not a scholar and a gentleman 
born and bred, as were many of his great companions. He was about thirt}^ years 
old at this time, and, until two years before, had made a failure at everything he 



66 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

ever tried to do, excepting- at idling* away his time, hunting- and fishing, scraping 
a: vioHn, phiying on a flute, following- the hounds, and telling stories. When he 
was about twenty-five years old, he made an effort toward becoming a lawyer, 
and although he was admitted to the bar, he had so little to do in his profession 
that he stayed at home mostly and helped about the tavern at Hanover Court- 
House, kept by his father-in-law, who also supported Henry's wife and famil,y. 
But one day he was called to court to take a part in a case called the " Parson's 
Cause," Avhich some more important lawyer had refused. His opponent was one 
of the prominent men of those times, and the plaintiffs smiled at their already as- 
sured success when this awkward, backward, ill-mannered man rose to speak for 
the other side. But suddenly his timidity and bashfulness passed away ; he 
seemed to change completely before their eyes ; his form swelled out ; and his 
clear, forcible words astonished every hearer. The plaintiffs left their seats under 
the burning storm of his words, and the jury returned to them a verdict of one 
penny damages. The people grew so enthusiastic that they lifted the young man 
on their shoulders and cai-ried him out of the Court-House in triumph. He was 
from that day an eminent man in his profession ; plenty of business and money 
began to come to him now, and in a couple of years he was elected to the Virginia 
House of Burgesses, where, in his first session, he made the great speech which 
" set the ball of the Revolution rolling." 

Yet, all this was but a foreshadowing of what he was to do. Now that he had 
once set himself to work in real earnest, the wonderful powers of his mind began 
to show themselves ; friends and strangers were surprised with his wisdom and 
power of speech. At that time our country was sorely in need of men fearless 
and eloquent, with hearts full of the love of justice and liberty — men who had 
seen and studied people, who knew the records of history, and the laws that had 
made nations great or caused them to fall. It was just such a man that this roll- 
ing stone, this unsuccessful student, farmer, and merchant had been unknowingly 
preparing himself to be. He was as much surprised as any one at what had been 
hidden within him so long. But now that he knew, he labored with all his strength 
to make the most of himself. The bad manners, slovenly dress, and the idle, 
careless habits that marred his youth were corrected. Always honorable, he now 
gained the reputation of being also prompt and faithful in all matters of business. 
He was a man who never di-ank liquor or used bad language. His companions 
loved and respected him. He was kind and hospitable to friends and strangers, 
generous to his neighbors, and although it is said that he was jealous of his rivals, 
there is no actual record of it ; but there is record of his having spoken heartily 
in praise of them more than once. 

The great man's face sometimes looked stern and severe, with its deep lines 



Patrick Henry. 67 

and the s'l'J^ve, thoug-htful expression upon the hig-h forehead and about the res- 
olute mouth and chin. His complexion was dark and his cheeks had no color in 
them. His nose was long- and finely shaped, and the full eyebrows were very 
often drawn tog-ether, but when he smiled a brig-ht sunshine seemed to spread 
over his countenance, lighting- up the deep-set blue-gray eyes that seemed quite 
'lark from the long, heavy lashes, and completely changing his mouth. Those 



Patrick Henry. 



who kne\> him well could almost tell whether he was pleased or displeased, and 
just how much, by the expression of his lips. 

In 1773 he worked with Thomas Jefferson, Dabney Carr, and the two Lees 
upon the Committee of Correspondence, whose duty it was to spread intelligence 
among the Colonies ; he met with the different Virghiia Assembhes that were so 
often broken up by the Royal Governor and reorganized by the people ; and was 
one of the delegates to the Congress at Philadelphia, which sent a petition to the 
King and an address to the people of the mother country. 

But it was after his return to Virginia when the convention of March, 1775, 



68 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

was held in Richmond that his greatest blaze of oratory came out. All now 
looked upon him as the leading- spirit of the Assembly, but when he presented 
resolutions to organize military forces and take an open stand against Great 
Britain by putting- the Colony in a state of defense, there was a strong- opposition 
raised. William Wirt tells us that Henry answered these falterers in the stirring- 
words : '' There is no retreat but in submission and slaver3\ Our chains are 
already- forg-ed. Their clanking may be heard in the plains of Boston. The next 
g-ale that sweeps from the Noi-th will bring- the clash of resounding- arms. I know 
not what course others may take, but as for me, g'ive me liberty or give me 
death ! " 

Without a vote against it, the resolution was adopted ; and when, m less than a 
month, the news from the North told of the fights at Lexington and Concord, 
Virginia was read}' to join in with the New England Colonies for freedom, liberty 
and right. Henry set about gathering military forces at once, and did some good 
work in command of them for a time, but resigned before ver^' long and devoted 
his time and strength to the work in the Legislature, where he sta^-ed all through 
the war. After peace was restored, as Governor and member of conventions, he 
spent an active and useful life, dechniug manj- of the higher offices offered him by 
both Presidents Washington and Adams. John Randolph, of Roanoke, said 
that Patrick Henry was Shakespeare and Garrick combined and brought into the 
real business of life. Never was there such a genius to put his thought into 
words as Shakespeare, and no one at that time could utter those words as 
David Garrick had done. 

Patrick Hemy was born at Studley, Virginia, Maj'- 29, 1736. He died in the 
same State, at his country-seat. Red Hill, in Charlotte County, June 6, 1799. 

Very few men have left a deeper impression upon our nation and government 
than Thomas Jefferson. From the time when, as a brilliant voung lawver 
twenty-six years old, he was first elected to the Virginia House of Burgesses, till, 
at the age of sixt^'-six, he retired from the President's chair after two successful 
administrations, he was one of the foremost men in American politics. 

When only seven jxars old, and attending a poor country school in Albemarle 
County, Virginia, he showed such signs of becoming a scholar that a tutor was 
soon after engaged to give him private lessons in French and the ancient lan- 
guages. He entered an advanced class in William and Mary College when he was 
seventeen, and here he steadily fulfilled the promise he had given, and studied 
from twelve to fifteen hours a day, making the best of all that the young college 
could give the youth of Virginia in those old Colonial times. In tAvo years he 
graduated and then began to study law as earnestly as he had devoted himself to 



Thomas Jeffei^son. 



69 



languages and mathematics, and when he was twent^^-four he was admitted to 
the har and immediately won a place among- the foremost law\yers of his time. 

He seemed to bound into success at once, and to be quicldy rewarded for his 
hard work and diligent study in preparation. Before long, too, he was taking 




Thomas Jefferson. 



active part in the Colony's politics. The tall, bony, well-developed figure of Jef- 
ferson soon became one of the common sights at the public assemblies. Being 
considerably over six feet tall, his square-looking features, ruddy skin, sandy or 
reddish hair could not fail to attract attention, and his quick, positive way, and 
disregard for formally polite usages, made him as marked in manners as he was 
in looks. He was a thorough republican, and could not even bear to be addressed 



70 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

by so small a title as " Mr." He wanted society to acknowledge all men equal, 
and in reg-ard to slavery, which was then common in the North as well as in the 
South, he said openly : "I tremble for ni}'^ country when I remember that God 
is just, for this is politicallj?^ and morall^^ wrong." He made a vain effort in the 
House of Burg-esses to give masters the light to free their slaves whenever they 
thought proper. 

Although he never made a formal speech in his life, Jefferson was ranked as 
the ablest political leader of his time, being especially quick and prompt to act. 
A large part of his public work was done with his pen. In 1773 he united with 
Patrick Henry and other patriots on the famous Committee of Correspondence, 
and the next year, at the convention in Philadelphia, presented a paper called "A 
Summary View of the Rights of British America." This was a strong argument 
for the right to resist unjust taxes, and many parts of it are much like some por- 
tions of the Declaration. It was so able that Edmund Burke caused it to be 
printed in England, with a few changes. The convention would not adopt its rad- 
ical measures, hoping still to make some peaceful half-way settlement with the 
mother country. But it was afterward adopted \)j the patriots of Virginia, where 
with such men as Patrick Henry, Peyton Bandolph, Richard Henry Lee, and 
George Washington, aroused, the cause moved rapidly on. Military forces were 
mustered, and Jefferson placed commander-in-chief by Washington's appoint- 
ment ; and in the conventions and congresses that followed each other in those 
troubled and important years, Thoinas Jefferson was one of the ablest, most active, 
and important of all the noble company drawn from every Colon3^ He made 
speeches, answered arguments, advised others, served on committees, and worked 
with untiring zeal upon the great and serious affairs of the day, crowning all 
by the noble Declaration of Independence, which is now ranked as one of the 
very ablest documents ever written, and stands as the most important paper 
in all modern political history. At the request of the other members of the com- 
mittee, Jefferson, who was chairman and the youngest man among the five, pre- 
pared the Declaration entirely himself; and John Adams, who was a better 
speaker, read it to the assembly. 

Jefferson left Congress to be in the Virginia Legislature, where he labored, 
almost without rest, in making over and improving old laws and proposing new 
ones. Virginia was settled by many proud old families, who strongly opposed 
everything that they feared would interfere with their privileges. Jefferson was 
of grand old stock, too, but with him the new era of equality" and liberty'" had 
opened ; he had its interests at heart, and untiringly used both voice and pen in 
their behalf. Among the most important of his reforms were the establishment of 
religious freedom and stopping the importation of slaves. Others were in regard to 



Thomas Jefferson. 71 

the holding- and inheritance of property, for to his mind the aristocratic old English 
customs and laws were out of place in a republican g-overnment. He also made 
up a complete plan for common school and higher education in Virginia. 

During" the whole of the war Jefferson was active and busy at the head of 
civil affairs in his native State. He followed Patrick Henry as Governor. He 
held this office during the most gloomy time in the conflict, but not with great 
credit, for he was not a military man, and several times the State and his own 
life were endangered by the enemy's forces. He saw this himself and refused the 
office a second term, and General Nelson, of Yorktown, was chosen in his place. 

In 1783 he reported the settlement of the peace treaty to Cong-ress, and an- 
nounced that the world acknowledged the independence which the Americans had 
declared on the Fourth of July, seven years before. At the next session his bill 
for the Federal coinage was passed, and the pounds, shillings, and pence of Eng- 
land were displaced for the national currency of the United States ; he also took a 
noted and active part in regard to the government of the Western territory and 
many other important matters ; and, excepting that Congress would not agree to 
his measures for "the total abolition of slavery after the year 1800," his plans 
were adopted as he presented them. 

The larger part of the next five years was spent by Jefferson in Government 
business with foreign countries, mostly as American Minister to Paris, in place of 
the honored Benjamin Franklin. This was a happy time to the great Virginian, 
whose life had been filled with many cares and sorrows beside the duties of pub- 
lic life. He published there his famous book, called " Notes on Virginia," which 
is the finest of his writings and attracted a great deal of attention and praise 
throughout all Europe. 

In 1789 he asked to come home. He reached America soon after Washington 
was elected President, and accepted the second place in the nation by becoming 
Secretary of State. Up to this time there had been scarcely any party feeling in 
the countr3\ But Jefferson had not been in office long before a pretty distinct 
division of party views was plain among the people. Alexander Hamilton, in 
favor of Federal government, was at the head of the old party, the Federalists, 
who, as opposed to the Royalists, had won the independence of the land. But 
now there was a new division. Jefferson believed in States' rights, opposed the 
Constitution, and taking a stand against manj'^ of Hamilton's views, became 
leader of the new Republican party, the same that was afterward called the 
Democratic party, and has been one of the great elements in the politics of the 
United States ever since. This party insisted upon each State being more im- 
portant than the one government over them all, and thought that the Federal 
power ought to be as limited as possible. This brought out a good deal of strong 



72 One Hundt^ed Famous Americans. 

feeling- and opposition, so tliat party feeling was far stronger than national feeling 
with many people on both sides. 

After Washington, John Adams and Jefferson were about the most promi- 
nent men in the country, so, when the time for another election came round, and the 
great first President gave notice that he would not accept another term of office, 
these two received more votes than any others for the Pi-esidency. According to 
the law then in force, Adams, having the most votes, was President, and Jeffer- 
son, with the next largest number, was Vice-President. 

For these four years he led a quiet life, as is the usual custom with Vice- 
Presidents ; but when the lively contest for the next election came he stepped 
forth once more, more prominent than ever, and for eight years was not only at 
the head of the nation, but the foremost of American statesmen. He began at 
once a great many reforms, especially against the stately and formal manners 
and the expensive public customs that had before existed. He rode to his in- 
auguration alone and on horseback, where others before him had gone in a coach 
drawn by four horses. He sent a written message to Congress instead of going 
himself and delivering a formal speech, as the others did ; and in many other 
things he carried his " Jeffersonian simplicity," as it is commonly spoken of, so 
far that we were ridiculed abroad as a careless-behaving and ill-bred people. 

The only very important event m this President's first term — when the 
polished Aaron Burr was Vice-President — was the famous "Louisiana purchase." 
This was to buy the great territory that, adjoinmg the United States on the west, 
extended from the Mississippi River to the Rocky Mountains. It was as large as 
the whole of the United States possessions, and was offered by Napoleon for fif- 
teen millions of dollars. As Congress was not then in session, Jefferson took the 
responsibility of the great purchase upon himself, for he feared that even if Congress 
were called to a special session, it would oppose the plan ; and he knew that there 
was no time to be lost, for if the United States did not buy the great tract, Eng- 
land was already almost prepared to make a desperate attempt to get it away from 
France. It was a bold deed, which many people strongly censured at the time, 
but which has proved — as Jefferson foresaw it would — one of the greatest benefits 
our nation could have received. George Clinton, who was a great and prominent 
man, the first Repubhcan of New York and the father of our common schools, 
was Vice-President during Jefferson's sec-ond term ; and this was a more stirring 
time than the first. 

Among the most important events of this administration was the great trial 
of Aaron Burr, who, by his wild operations in Mexico, drew the Government into 
trouble with Spain and into other serious difficulties. A short time after this, 
Hamilton, the great Federalist leader, died also by the hand of Burr. Steps were 



John Jay. 73 

taken in other countries that ruined our forei^^n trade and caused great money 
troubles throug-liout the land ; and, greatest concern of all, Great Britain issued 
a " right of search," by which she claimed — and took — the privilege of boarding 
our vessels when they were found on the high seas, to search for her own subjects, 
according to the doctrine that any one who had once been a British subject was 
so always. By this a great many of our sailors, in spite of their protests, were 
impressed into the British service, until finally it was done for the last time in 
June, 1807, when the English ship Richard fired into the American frigate 
Chesapeake, boarded her, and carried away four men who were declared to be 
British deserters. The whole country was roused. The President declared 
against any armed British vessels coming into American waters, and also issued 
the Embargo Act, which forbade all American vessels from leaving home ports. 
This poorly met the trouble, for it killed all foreign trade, and there was a strong 
feeling against it. The old Federal party woke up to new life to resist it, and 
only a few days before the third President's term closed, the act was repealed. 

Jefferson's political life closed in 1809, and in his quiet home at Monticello, 
Virginia, he spent the remainder of his days, devoting a large amount of thought 
and money to establishing the University of Virginia, at Charlottesville, to which 
he gave great care, and was proud of calling himself the father. 

Thomas Jefferson was born ct Shad well, Virginia, April 2, 1743. He died 
at Monticello, a portion of the old family estate, July 4, 1826. 

The year after Jefferson was admitted to the Virginia bar, John Jay became 
a lawyer in New York. The two men were about the same age — Jay a little the 
younger — and both very soon became distinguished, not only as lawyers, but also as 
earnest, able patriots. They were not old enough to take any part in the Stamp 
Act excitement, but they became so prominent in the affairs that soon followed, that 
they were both sent to the first Continental Congress in 1774. Jay was the leading 
man from New York, and was put upon the famous committee of three to prepare 
the address to the people of Great Britain, which was sent with an appeal to the 
King for the rights of the American Colonies. He drew up this paper alone, and 
Jefferson, not knowing who wrote it, said, " It is the production of the finest pen 
in America." 

After this there were many important papers, and difficult errands of states- 
manship which John Jay was called upon to fulfill, for his own Colony and for 
Congress, and he threw his whole strength and spirit into the work. Duties in 
the New York convention kept him away from Congress when the Declaration was 
adopted, but, warmly in favor of it, he supported it cordially and did a great deal 
to make the unwilling New Yorkers adopt it. Almost as soon as he returned to 



^4 One Hiindi'ed Famous Americans. 

Philadelphia he was elected President of Congress, and for nearly a year he pre- 
sided o^•er that body of great men, Avith g-reat dignity and ability, Avliile he was 
also Chief Justice of the Court of New York, 

The next year he went to Europe, and was kept there by Government business 
during all the years of the war, and until some time after the treaty with England 
was signed at Paris in 1783. On coming home he found that Congress had made 
him Secretary of Foreign Affairs. As the Government was then in very unset- 
tled and unpleasant relations to European nations, and without almost any power 
and dignity of its own, this was the most important office in the land. Jay cheer- 
fully took up its many and difficult duties and attended to them ably and faith- 
fully as long as the Government by Congress lasted. 

In the eighth year of American independence the Government was reorganized 
under the new Federal Constitution, and when George Washington, at the head 
of the nation, was forming his Cabinet, he offered Mr. Jay the choice of the offices 
in his gift. He felt that no one was more deserving of this choice, nor better fit- 
ted to fill the duties of whatever post he might select, for at this time Jay was a 
man over forty years old, and had proved himself a thorough statesman in some 
of the most tr^-ing affairs of the nation. He selected the office of Chief Justice of 
the Supreme Court, and in him the bar of the nation had for its first chief one whose 
learning and ability, and prudence, mildness, and firmness were a worthy model 
for all who inight follow. 

He did not wish to undertake the errand to England to settle the differences 
between the two countries in 1794. He kneAv very well that it would be impossi- 
ble at that time for any one to make a treaty with Great Britain that would meet 
with favor from all of the public, for the feeling of the people was much di- 
vided. However, he went, and the settlement famous in history as "Jay's 
Treaty" was agreed upon before the close of the year. There was great opposi- 
tion to it in France and by the '' French party," or people favorable to France in 
this country. So much excitement was raised about it that mobs gathered in the 
cities, lit bonfires, threatened many things, and they even burned an effigy of Jay 
in Boston. But Alexander Hamilton, Fisher Ames, and some of the strongest 
men in the country supported the treatj^, and it was finally adopted, and remained 
in force for about ten years. 

By the time the ambassador returned, the matter was quietly accepted in this 
country, and he found himself already elected Governor of New York. AVliile he 
held this office, slavery was abolished in the State, for Jay had long been a strong 
advocate of anti-slavery in all parts of the country, and was President of one of 
its largest societies. He served as Governor for two terms, but declined a 
third, and also refused the offer of his old office of United States Chief Jus- 



t)e Witt Clinton. 75 

tice. He was then nearly sixty years old, and wished to spend the rest of his 
days out of politics and public life, excepting- where he could be useful in helping- 
along- matters of national peace, temperance, religion, and liberty for slaves. He 
was a devout and earnest man, of upright moral character, deep piety, and lofty 
unselfishness and patriotism. 

John Jay was born in New York City, December 12, 1745. He died at Bedford, 
New York, May 17, 1839. 

Probably the ablest statesman that ever followed John Jay as Governor of 
New York was De Witt Clinton. Fresh from colleg-e and law studies, he be- 
gan his political life as private secretary to his uncle, the honored Georg-e Clinton, 
who was Governor before Jay ; and although he was then only twenty-one years old, 
he soon had an active part in the public affairs of the day. In the course of about 
twelve years, he rose from one office to another, and became the chief leader of the 
Democratic party in New York, although after the Democrats were united 
to the Tammany Society, he became a stanch Republican, He was legislator 
and Senator in the State, United States Senator, and in 1803 became Mayor of 
New York City. This was then a very important office, for the Mayor was also 
President of the Council, and Chief Judg-e of the Common Pleas and the Criminal 
Courts, "He was," says an American writer, '' on all sides looked upon as the 
most rising- man in the Union." Altogether he held the office of Mayor for eig-ht 
years, and the Empire City prospered very much under his wise and able manage- 
ment. 

The New York Historical Society, the old Academy of Arts, the first Orphan 
Asylum, and other institutions to encourag-e art, literature, science, and benevo- 
lence, were founded by him or throug-h his influence. A larg-e part of his life was 
devoted to establishing free schools, public libraries, and other aids to students 
who cannot obtain a costly education. 

During- the last years that he was Mayor, he was also Lieutenant-Governor of 
the State, and in 1817 he was almost unanimously elected Governor. His great 
object, during both his first and second terms as Governor, w^as to have the 
State carry out Jesse Hawley's plan for the Erie Canal. Through his efforts a 
bill authorizing the building of this canal was passed by the Legislature in the 
spring that he was elected Governor, and his chief object now was to see it com- 
pleted. But people did not believe it possible, and the State would not provide 
money to continue the work. 

Chnton's "big ditch" became a standing joke for all the wits and newspapers 
in the country. It was ridiculous— people said— to think of making a canal sixty- 
three miles long, and supposing that it could ever be used for boats to g-o from the 



76 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

seaboard to the great lakes. While many merely made fun it, a large party fought 
against it, as a scheme that would be a great loss to the State. Clinton declined 
to be Governor in 1822, and his enemies strengthened very much the opposition to 
his plans, and even removed him from the presidency of the Canal Commission. 
But this was so unjust that the people rallied around him, and elected him Gov- 
ernor again the next term by the largest majority a candidate for that office 
ever received. 

Clinton and his friends, meanwhile, had been keeping steadily at work toward 
proving the value of their great plan ; and in 1825 the " ditch " was finished, the 
sluices were opened, and the waters of Lake Erie made their way to the sea, form- 
ine- a water-course that is worth millions of dollars to the State and the nation, 
every year. Those who had called Chnton insane before now praised him without 
measure. Bonfires and fire-works, speeches and processions were the order of the 
day, and Clinton was its hero. A great majority re-elected him as Governor. 
President John Quincy Adams offered him the place of Ambassador to England, 
but he declined that, as he still had work to do in his own State. This was a 
change in the Constitution so as to allow universal suffrage at elections, and has 
since been carried out, although Clinton did not live to see it, for he died suddenly 
at Albany, in the midst of his work and of the popularity which— outside of his 
party — was a long while in coming to him. 

Few people ha^'e done so much for their country and so influenced their times as 
this tall, distinguished-looking man, whose rugged, sinewy frame and massive 
head bespoke the power as well as the haughty nature within. Although he 
sometimes lost sight of party as well as personal friends in his high ambition, espe- 
cially in his " never unworthy, but always unwise " desire to reach the President's 
chair, and while his bravery was sometimes rashness, and by not controlling his 
temper he too often got into needless difficulties with others, he has been ranked 
as " without exception the greatest man of the period to which he belonged," and 
*' one of the few who are not overshadowed by the greater merits and opportuni- 
ties of those who came before him and have a Revolutionary renown." 

The future and the present wants of his country, in its uncertain condition after 
the war, were clearly before his eyes, and he had the courage to labor for this 
with untiring zeal at a time when a large number of the men around him had few 
motives above personal renown or gains and party spite, and devoted themselves 
to abusing him, misrepresenting him, and openly attacking all that he did. One 
bitter defeat they secured, but he appeared again after a few years, stronger 
than ever, equal to every official responsibility, and with a strong hold on the mass 
of people, partly won by his ability as an orator, and partly on account of his good 
deeds of kindness. He always took up the rights of the weak against the strong. 



De Witt Clinton. .^ 



^t^vTt^ZZ^^Zr"^ r" " ""?: ^'^^^ ''''' ^^^^^^^ "i^ *« 1-- - - friend and 
admired that statehness of bearing which others called haughtiness." In spite of 



De Witt Clinton. 






LATER STATESMEN AND ORATORS. 



A BOUT fifteen years after Patrick Henry's great g-enius first awoke in plead- 
-L\. ing- against the famous "Parson's Cause," Henry Clay, the second of 
Amei'ica's greatest orators, was born, in a low, swampj^ district called the 
" Slashes," only a few miles awa}^ from the very tavern where Henry had lived. 
He began his education at a log-cabin school-house in Hanover County. His father 
died when he was about five years old, leaving a large family and scarcely any- 
thing to support them, so it was Clay's duty to work, more than to study, even 
while he was very young. He did chores, helped on the farming, and carried 
grain to the mill. This is why, in after years, he was called the " Mill-boy of the 
Slashes." 

When fourteen years old he went into a store in Richmond, from which he was 
taken into the office of the Clerk of the Court of Chancery. He was an awkward 
boy then, and the other lads in the office made fun of him. But they found out, 
before long, that he was able to take his own part, and that it was better to have 
Henry Cla^^ for a friend than an enemy. 

His work was mostly dull copying, but he gathered from it all the knowledge 
and hints about law that he could, and so pleased the Chancellor that he asked him 
to become his priv^^te secretary. The Chancellor was a very industrious and 
painstaking man, not only in studying law, but in gathering general knowledge. 
His secretary was just the sort of an energetic, studious fellow he liked, so he 
talked with him and taught him a great deal, and always found him glad to learn. 

In a little while Clay began to read law, and did it so earnestly and thoroughly 
that he was able to practice before he was twent^^-one. Although he was bright 
and winning in his manners, he did not seek gay, lively young people for his com- 
panions ; most of his time was given to work, but he had a few well-chosen young 
friends, and never lost a chance to be with good men and women from whom he 
could learn wisdom in knowledge and character. 

The year in which Henry Clay was admitted to the bar, there were a great 
many people moving westward to settle the fertile valleys of Kentucky. The 
young lawyer thought this would be a good chance for him to build up a fine 



Henry Clay, 



79 



practice, and so he became a citizen of Lexington . He was very poor at first, but 
whatever lie undertook was so well done that he soon became widely known and 




Henry Clay, 



had plenty of business. In a few years he married a Kentucky lady, and began 
to take an active part in politics on the side of the newly-formed Republican party, 
led by Thomas Jefferson, and opposed to the Federal party, led by Alexander 
Hamilton. 



80 Ofie Hundred Famous Americans. 

About this time, the people of Kentucky were making- over their Constitution, 
and Clay worked so zealously to have slavery put out of the State that he lost a 
g-reat deal of his popularity, for Kentucky had large interests in slave labor. But 
he came back into favor ag-ain after his noble opposition to the Alien and Sedition 
Laws, described in the sketch of John Adams ; and in 1803 he was elected to the 
Kentucky Legislature by a larg-e vote. He was now among- the foremost men of his 
State, and was soon sent to the United States Senate to finish out the term of a 
man who had retired. In about three years more he was returned by regular 
election, and after that term was over he became a member of the House of Rep- 
resentatives in Washing-ton, where he was elected Speaker after a few months. 

These were in the early years of this century, when troubles were thickening 
between England and America for a second time. Clay's stand was decidedly in 
favor of letting the war come on. He is said to have done more than any one else 
toward the success of the war party, which was led by John C. Calhoun, of South 
Carolina, then a ne-w member, but a g-reat power. Clay strongly denounced Eng- 
land's claim of right to search our vessels on the high seas and take away our sailors 
because they had once been British subjects, and he declared that we should hold to 
our rights as a nation at whatever cost. But he was not a lover of strife, as Cal- 
houn seemed to be, and when Russia offered, as a friend to both countries, to help 
arrange some terms of peace, " Harry of the "West," as Clay was called, was 
thought to be a wise person to put upon the committee for the United States. With 
four other commissioners, he went to Ghent, in Belgium, where a treaty was 
agreed upon the day before Christmas, 1814. This treaty ended the war, and by 
Clay's careful management was made favorable to the United States in many ways. 

On coming back to America, he was at once re-elected to Congress and to the 
Speakership, which post he held thirteen years altogether. There was a powerful 
order and a charming dignity in the way in which he presided over the restless 
and excitable bodj^ of Representatives, whose sessions are so different from the 
calm and sedate meetings of the Senate ; and during all the time not one of his de- 
cisions was reversed. In 1818 he made one of the most brilliant and successful 
speeches ever delivered in Congress. It was in favor of recognizmg the Republics 
of South America, and besides the honest and generous sympathy extended 
through its influence by the United States to the struggling nations of the South, 
it raised our nation in the sight of others. This was soon followed by a great and 
successful effort to establish a national system of improvements in the interior of 
the country ; and in the next year he entered upon the large and important work of 
arranging a plan of tariff rates, or taxes upon goods brought from other countries. 
This was done to protect American industries — that is, to prevent dealers from 
being able to import European goods and sell them here for lower prices than 



Henry Clay. 8J 

American makers could afford to supply the market, being- new to their bus- 
iness and not able to manufacture so cheaply as old established houses with 
experienced workmen. This was a great task, and it was a long- time before 
it could be arranged so that American manufactures were profitable. In 1824 
the duties were increased, for home trade was still very poor. But there was a 
good deal of strong feeling against this among those who were not interested in 
manufactures, and in this year the struggle opened between Protection — or high 
tariff — and Free Trade, which is a low revenue tariff, or none at all. 

In about four years after the tariff was raised, a new rate of still higher duties 
was adopted ; and the revenue thus brought in was set aside, by act of Congress, 
for building and improving roads, making canals, deepening rivers and harbors, 
and othei' works for the benefit of the country, which are all called by the one name 
of internal improvements. This use of the pro tectiv e tariff revenues, for the much- 
needed internal improvements, was a new idea, and became known as the "Amer- 
ican system." Some people — mostl}'"' members of the old Republican party, now 
known as the Democratic party — did not approve of it; but John Quincy Adams, 
now President, and Henry Clay, who had become Secretar^^ of State, were able 
supporters of it. In a few years it led, partially, to the formation of a new party, 
who called themselves the Whigs, and looked upon Clay as their leader. They 
supported the Bank, and in almost everything- held the views opposite to those of 
General Jackson, a leader of the Democrats, whose services in the Mexican "War 
had made him very popular. He ran for President against Adams and was 
elected in 1829. Then Clay left the Cabinet, and in a couple of years became 
United States Senator. He ran against Jackson for President, before the second 
election of popular " Old Hickory," and in the same year drew up the Compro- 
mise Tariff between the Federal Government and the " nullifiers " of the South, 
which is known as " Clay's worst compromise." 

Several years before this, when Clay was Speaker of the House and before John 
Quincy Adams was President, he was chief supporter of the famous Missouri Com- 
promise. This was in 1821, when a long and bitter struggle took place between 
the pro-slavery and anti-slavery parties over the admission of Missouri into the 
Union. The Compromise admitted Missouri as a slave State, but prohibited it in 
the Territories, north of 36° 30' North latitude, Mason and Dixon's Line. The dis- 
putes that had been constantly wrangling between the North and South, and grown 
very hot of late, were settled by this measure for about twenty-five years. 

After this Mr. Clay was out of politics for about three years, attending to his 
profession and earning money to cover some large private losses he had had. But 
in 1823 he returned and was elected Speaker once more by a large vote. It 
was during- this session that Webster made his famous resolutions in behalf of 



83 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

the Greeks suffering- from the tyranny of the Turks, which Clay most heartily 
supported. 

Southerner as he was, Henry Cla^^ was also a firm Union man. In one of his 
speeches he said he owed his first and great duty to the whole Union, and under 
that and after it came the claims of his State. He was strongly in favor of grad- 
ually putting down slavery; but, as a celebrated writer has said, compromises can 
only be made upon measures, not with principles, and so the most that they could 
effect was to keep off the day of outbreak. Meanwhile the evil was going on, both 
parties were strengthening, and the opposition growing deeper and more bitter all 
the while. 

From the time he ran against Jackson, his party was always wanting to make 
him President. Once he declined and twice he jdelded, but he was never elected. 
In the campaign when the Democrats elected Polk, he was earnestly opposed to 
adding Texas to the United States, and declared that no earthly power should ever 
induce him to consent to the addition of one acre of slave territory to the United 
States. But the measure was carried by Calhoun, who took the office of Secre- 
tary of State long enough to accomplish it, and then returned to the Senate, where 
he was laboring zealously for the interests of the South. 

Clay was now an old man, but his courteous manner and pei'sonal magnetism 
still won new friends as they kept the old ones, and his matchless voice, sweeping 
gestures, and splendid attitudes still held foremost place among the splendid tal- 
ents of the 3^ounger men in both the House and the Senate. 

The last great effort of his life was to secure the series of measures, known in 
history as the Compromise Act of 1850, and which postponed the conflict between 
freedom and slavery for ten years more. 

Henry Clay was born in " The Slashes " of Hanover County, Virginia, April 
13, 1777. He died in the city of Washington, June 39, 1853. 

After the death of Henry Clay, the ablest statesman and orator in America 
was acknowledged by all to be Daniel Webster. Many people thought him 
greater than Clay, and undoubtedly he was as a statesman and a jurist, although 
not pei'haps as a speaker. 

When he first took his seat in the House of Representatives at Washington, 
at the extra session of the Thirteenth Congress, he was about thirty years old, and 
was already noted as one of the soundest lawyers in New Hampshire. But at that 
time few people imagined the knowledge as a jurist, the profound ability'" as a 
statesman, and the mighty powers as an orator that lay hidden within this massive 
head, with its dark skin and deep-set e,yes. Few people knew anything about the 
labors he had been putting himself to in the years before, and the story of his 



Daniel Webster. 



83 



early days, which young and old delight in now, was then deemed scarcely worth 
the telling-. He was a poor hoy, the son of a New Hampshire farmer who kept a 
tavern, and had begun to study and to make himself useful as far back as he 
could remember. The first twenty-five cents he ever earned was given to a ped- 
dler for a handkerchief, on which the Constitution of the United States was printed. 




K - i^, 



Daniel Webster. 

He read tliis over and over until he could repeat every woi'd from memory, and 
so his life-long study of the Constitution was begun. By the light of the log-fire 
at night he committed to memory hymns and verses from the Bible and read Addi- 
son's " Spectator." He would do almost anything for the loan of a book, which 
he would carry about in his pocket and study during odd minutes when he was on 
the farm, going on errands, or Avaiting for the logs to run through the mill. 

One day when Daniel and his father were in the hayfield a man rode up and 
talked with the father for a few minutes. After he was gone. Squire Webster said, 



84 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

" Dan, by a few votes, that man beat me in getting- into Congress, because he had a 
better education. You shall have an education, and then you must work your 
way to Congress." But Daniel, delighted as he was with the prospect of going to 
school, would not go unless his brother Ezekiel could go too ; so the farm was mort- 
gaged and both went. But even this would not last long enough for both to finish 
their studies ; so, after Daniel had got a start at Phillips Exeter Academy, he 
taught school for awhile and copied law-papers in the evening. Everything seems 
to turn to good account with him. From the dull work of copying he grew in- 
terested in law, and resolved to study it. Teaching part of the time to pay his 
expenses, he fitted for college, and entered Dartmouth in 1797. Ezekiel meanwhile 
had finished his studies and was becoming a brilliant lawyer. 

Daniel gave no great promise in college ; he was a good scholar, had a wonder- 
ful memory, and never shrank from the work or trouble of getting thoroughly 
informed on a subject. It was said that during all his school life he was never 
late, never out of place, and never had a poor recitation. But for all this, he 
was not distinguished, and did not make any show at graduation, though he left 
college with a perfectly clean record and high standing. Not one mark of disap- 
proval had ever stood against his name. 

Squire Webster, now a judge, obtained for Daniel a position as clerk in his 
court, with a salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year. But the 3"0ung man re- 
fused it, saying, " I propose to be an actor, and not a register of other men's 
acts." The old gentleman was disappointed. He said there were already more 
lawyers than the country needed, and Daniel replied, ''There is room enough at 
the top." So, against the advice of his friends, and without help or encourage- 
ment, he set to work to study law. After he could learn no more from the 
country lawyers, he went to Boston. Step by step, with patience, judgment, and 
hard work, he made his way to the Boston bar and finally to Congress, where he 
went far beyond his father's fondest hope, and took rank at once among the 
greatest men of the nation. 

This was a very important time with us, for war had just been declared 
against Great Britain on account of the impressment of American seamen and 
other annoyances from our old onem^'. Congress was deep in the gravest of con- 
siderations, and Henry Clay, Speaker of the lower House, placed Mr. Webster 
on the very important Committee on Foreign Affairs. He took sides at once 
against the war measures and in favor of making a better Navj^, and after his 
first speech he became acknowledged, both in and out of Congress, as the New 
England leader of the old Federal pai-ty. This was then in violent opposition to 
the Democrats and the war party, led by John C. Calhoun, of South Carolina, 
and supported by Henry Clay. 



Daniel Webster. 85 

From this time forth, whether representing- the Granite State in Congress, 
following- his profession in Boston, or during the long periods when he stood for 
Massachusetts, first as a Congressman and later as a Senator, or when he served 
under the Harrison-Tyler and the Fillmore administrations as Secretary of State 
— altogether a period of almost forty years — Mr. Webster devoted himself with 
zeal and wisdom to all the greatest public matters of his time, both in law and in 
politics. His influence in many important steps in our country's progress is felt 
to this day, and will always be felt as long as the nation exists. 

He left Washington and politics in 181G, and making his home in Boston in- 
stead of New Hampshire, devoted himself to his business. In a very short thne 
he became the leading lawyer in New England. His first great case was about 
Dartmouth College, and in arguing this before the Supreme Court of the United 
States, he not only won his cause and spread his fame over the whole country, but 
secured a decision upon which a point of law about college charters has fii-mly 
rested ever since. After that he was retained by the Government in nearly all 
the important cases that were argued before the Supreme Court at Washington. 

He had a magnificent power of setting forth truth; his eloquent, forcible 
words ; his profound knowledge ; his deep, musical voice, and his commanding 
figure, carried the opinions of judges, juries, and spectators into the current of 
his own arguments. 

Much of Mr. Webster's fame also rests upon the public orations which he made 
in honor of great national events. The first of these was delivered at Plymouth 
in 1820, on the anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrims. Five years later he 
gave another, when the corner-stone for the Bunker Hill Monument w^as laid; 
which was followed by still another when the monument was finished in 1843. 
But the most brilliant of all, perhaps, was the eulogy on the two great patriots, 
Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, who died the same day, just fifty years after 
the Declaration of Independence, which one wrote for Congress and the other read 
before it. This address was made in Faneuil Hall, in the summer of 1826, and as 
the vast audience looked on the noble, dignified presence before them and listened 
to the powerful voice pouring out eloquence and patriotism as he imagined John 
Adams had done fifty years before, they forgot the present. They were back 
in the old Colonial days, with British tyranny over them, the great struggle for 
independence, before them and the mettle of the new nation still untried. Webster 
had been back in Congress about four years by this time, and had already made 
his famous speech there in behalf of the Greeks under the Turkish oppression, in 
which he most powerfully denounced the principles of the Holy Alliance. 

He remained in Congress for five years, taking an active part in some of the 
debates, and in the revising of the whole of the United States Criminal Law, 



86 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

which is one of the most important of all his services to the nation. In 1828 
he went from the House to the Senate, and voted for Clay's great tariff bill of 
that 3^ear. Tliis was the chief cause of the new Whig- party being formed, in 
which Clay and Webster were the foremost men. On his record as Senator 
everything- else is cast in the shadow by his famous reply to Robert Y. Hayne, of 
South Carolina, in what is always know^n as the Great Debate of the Senate. 
Never, before or after, did the genius of Daniel Webster rise to such wonderful 
power'as in those two days, January 26 and 27, 1830, when, denying- the rig-ht of 
any State to " nullify " the Federal laws, he defended the Union and the Consti- 
tution in the most remarkable speech ever delivered in either house of the United 

States Congress. 

Like all his speeches, there was g-reat literary merit in this arg-ument. " It was 
intended," says an eminent American critic, "as a defense of his political posi- 
tion, as an exposition of the constitutional law, and a vindication of what he 
deemed to be the true policy of the country." 

He had no thought of g-aining- literary fame by it, and yet the speech, even to 
those who take little interest in subjects like the tariff, nullification, and the pub- 
lic lands, will ever be interesting-, from its profound knowledge, its clear arrang-e- 
ment, the broad stamp of nationality it bears, and the wit, sarcasm, and splendid, 
impassioned eloquence, which add brilliance to its wisdom and clearness to " the 
close and rapid march of its arg-ument." 

In debate upon the taritf he was the g-reat opponent of Calhoun, and in politics 
he was one of the most popular leaders of the Whigs. Long- ag-o, during- his first 
session in the Legislature, the adoption of his resolution that all payments to the 
pubhc Treasury should be made in specie, or money that stood for specie, greatly 
improved the currency of the country. In 1832 he made a very important address 
in favor of renewing- the charter of the United States Bank, and again, five years 
later, he spoke strongly and ably against the Sub-Treasury. 

He did a great deal to secure the election of General Harrison, who made him 
Secretary of State, and when all the other members retired from Tyler's Cabinet, 
he stoodby the administration until the dispute about the Northeastern boundary 
of the United States was peaceably settled. This important treaty, which, being 
made between Webster and Lord Ashburton, is known as the Webster-Ashburton 
treaty, settled a long and serious difference which it was often feared would finally 

end in war. 

Like Clay, he opposed adding Texas to the Union, on account of extending 
slavery ; he w^as not in favor of pushing on wdth the Mexican War for the sake of 
getting territory to form new States for the Union ; and although he wanted to 
see the country free from slavery, he believed, with Clay, that it must be done 



Daniel Webster. 87 

gradually, and greatly disappointed many of his admirers, when he supported 
C'lay's compromise measures of 1850. It was upon this and the Wilmot Proviso 
against slavery in new territory that he made his last speech in the Senate. Soon 
after, he became Secretary of State in President Fillmore's Cabinet, but he did 
not live to see the next election. As a statesman, a lawyer, a writer, and a speaker 
his place is very high. 

"Our impression is," said an able Eng-hsh writer, "that exceptmg- for Mira- 
beau, Chatham, Fox, and Broug'ham, no speaker entirely the match of Daniel 
Webster has trod the world-stage for full two centuries." 

Among his own countrymen, too, he has received the highest praise. His 
speeches "take the highest rank among the best productions of the American 
intellect. They are thoroughly national in their spirit and tone, and are full of 
princij^les, arguments, and appeals, which come directly home to the hearts and 
understanding of the great body of the people. . . . They are storehouses of 
thought and knowledge, solid judgment, high sentiment, and broad and generous 
views of national policy." 

He was every inch an American. "His whole life has been passed in the 
country of his birth, and his fame and honors ai'e all closely connected with 
American feelings and institutions. His works all refer to the history, the pol- 
icy, the laws, the government, the social life, and the destiny of his own land. 
. He was a man whose youth saw the foundation of our Government, and 
whose manhood was spent in exercising some of its highest offices, who was born 
on our soil, educated amid our people, exposed to all the good and the bad influ- 
ences of our society ; and who has acquired high station by no sacrifices of man- 
liness, principle, or individuality, but by a straightforward force of character and 
vigor of intellect. A fame such as he has obtained is worthy of the noblest am- 
bition ; it reflects honor on the whole nation ; it is stained by no meanness, or 
fear, or subserviency ; it is the result of a long life of intellectual labor, emplo3^ed 
in making clear the spirit of our laws and g'overnment, in defending the prin- 
ciples of our institutions, in spreading enlarged views of patriotism and duty, 
and in ennobling, by the highest sentiments of freedom and religion, the heroical 
events of our national history." 

When the great statesman was seventy years old, his birthday was cele- 
brated in Boston by a grand ovation. In the speech he made thanking his 
friends for the honor tliej^ paid him, he told the secret of his success in the 
words, " Work has made me what I am. I never ate a bit of idle bread in m^^ 
life." 

Daniel Webster was born at Salisbury, New Hampshire, January 18, 1782. 
He died at Marshfield, Massachusetts, October, 24, 1852. 



88 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Robert Y. Hayiie was an able opponent to Webster, and their great debate 
was, on both sides, one of the most remarkable which ever occurred in the Senate. 
It was beg'un by General Hayne, who, speaking- upon some question that grew 
out of a resolution about the sale of the public lands, declared that the Eastern 
States had shown a mean policy toward the West, to which Mr. Webster an- 
swered, showing- that New Eng-land had been unjustly acccused, and the Govern- 
ment also. Then it was that Mr. Hayne beg-an the real argument of the great 
debate, attacking- Mr. Webster, Massachusetts, and the other Northern States, 
and finally the Constitution itself. He spoke with powerful, brilliant eloquence, 
and a great deal of force. He had chosen his own time, and carefully prepared 
himself for his undertaking. Facts from personal history, from the annals of 
New England, and from the long records of the Federal party had been faithfully 
gleaned and prepared for argument with a master hand. It was a strong speech 
and made a g-reat impression upon the Senate. 

Mr. Webster was just at that time the leading counsel in a very important 
cause, and would have liked to postpone his answer to so great an attack ; but 
Mr. Hayne refused; so, with but a single night to make ready, he accepted the 
challenge. The next day and the next, he took up the arguments of his opponent, 
and answered them as no debater in America, however brilliant, has ever been 
answered before or since. The power of Mr. Webster's reply has forever cast in 
the shade the magniflcent speech that called it out. 

Mr. Hayne— or General Ha3'ne, for he had won the title of major-general in 
the War of 1812, when he was less than twenty-five years old — was nine years 
younger than Webster. He had been an able and brilliant man in politics for 
many years. From the age of twenty-two as long as he lived he had a greater and 
more paying law practice than any other man in South Carolina. He was elected 
to the State Legislature the year after Webster first took his seat in the Legislature 
at Washington, aiwi became distinguished at once for his eloquence and his firm sup- 
port of the war measures in President Madison's administration. He was placed 
in the Senate just as soon as he was old enough — that is, as soon as he reached the 
age of thirty- two — and remained there for ten years, one of its most able members. 
Like many of the Southerners, he was always ready to defend and bring forward 
the principles of States' rights. He was one of the most important members of 
the Union and States' Rights Convention which Calhoun was the means of calling 
together at Charleston in 1832, and was chairman of the committee which drew up 
the resolutions against the tariff and alarmed the country with its " ordinance of 
nullification," and was so promptly met by President Jackson's proclamation: 
" The Union must and shall be preserved." 

About a fortnight after this, Mr. Hayne was made Governor of his State, and 



Robert Young Hayne. 



89 



the defiance which he flung- back to the President filled the country with a forebod- 
ing- that a civil war was close at hand. But for the compromise of Henry Clay, 
Hayne ui the Governor's chau^ at South Carolina, and Calhoun in the Senate— both 




Robert Young Hayne. 



(Of them powerful leaders in the South, and as honest and sincere in their views as 
their Northern opponents— would have carried their ordinance into effect and has- 
tened the war by thirty years. 

After this Mr. Hayne's life was devoted with energ-y to his duties as Governor 



90 . One Hundred Famous Americans. 

of his State, as Mayor of Cliarleston, and to improving- the interior of the country. 
From 1837 until the time of his death he was the husy, active President of the 
Charleston, Louisville, and Cincinnati Railroad Company, and when he died, every 
honest American, of whatever politics, felt that one of the noblest, purest-minded 
men of his ag-e had passed away. 

Robert Young- Hayne was born near Charleston, South Carolina, November 
10, 1791 ; he died at Ashville, m the same State, September 24, 1840. 

, During- the first part of this century, slavery was the one great question before 
the American nation, and upon the side in favor of this, far ahead of all other 
statesmen, stood Johu Caldwell Calliouii. He entered public life as a leg-islator 
in his native State, South Carolina, in 1807, fresh from law studies and only three 
years after his g-raduation from Yale Colleg-e. 

In a few years he was elected to Cong-ress, in which he took his seat as a Dem- 
ocrat, and soon became the foremost member of the war partj^ He was a born 
leader and politician, and being- made chairman of the Committee on Foreign Af- 
fairs, from the first he held in the House the next important place to the Speaker- 
ship. The report of this committee, on the 29th of November, 1811, was the bugle 
blast for the War of 1813. It was taken up by Clay and others, and was never al- 
lowed to sink out of sound until the good news came over the sea that the treaty 
was signed at Ghent, acknowledging America's rights at home and abroad. 

Thus it was that when Callioun was thirty years old — at the very beginning of 
manhood — he took up the cry of war, which, his biographer says, "was to be his 
destiny to the last day of his life ; though it was in later years to be waged not 
against a foreign aggressor, but against enemies at home, against the peace of the 
Union, against the true welfare of his own section of the country." 

Less than a month after this report was delivered, he made his first set speech 
in Congress. It was so strong and earnest, so full of eloquence in his party's 
cause, and so forcible against the opponents of the war, that its fame spread 
through the country far and wide, and John Calhoun's place was rated at once 
among the leading statesmen of the day. When he spoke, he made his points by 
eloquence and reasoning, not by bullying- and hectoring the other side. He re- 
membered the rules of debate like a gentleman even in the warmest contests, and 
though he might be cutting his way with sharp and stinging weapons, or dealing 
heavy, stunning blows, he always attacked the argument of his opponent and not 
the man himself. "From the first," says an able winter, " he entered the lists 
with the proud conviction of being fully the equal of any man, and he always spoke 
in the weighty tone of authority." At this time he held no narrow views; he 
stood on the broadest national ground, and his only great error was overheat in 



John Caldwell Calhoun. 



91 



bring-ing' on too swiftly another war with England before the countrj'- had recovered 
far enough from the Revolution to assert itself ag-ainst that " peace that was like 
war." It was, to start with at least, ''not a national war, but a party war, or 
rather a war of the party leaders." 




John Caldwell Calhoun. 

In this Calhoun was foremost, unwise but patriotic. In later years his views 
g-rew narrower and the slaveholders' interests were more to him than those of 
the nation. But that was some time after this period. He now held exactly the 
opposite g-round to that which he afterward took on all the g-reat questions which 



92 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

disturbed tlie country so deeply during- the first half century of its existence. He 
leported a bill to Congress on the United States Bank in ISIG, and made a speech 
in favor of it. A few months aftei'ward he delivei'ed a long- and carefully prepared 
argument in favor of pi-otective tarilf, which was strong-er — it has been said — than 
"even Henry Clay and Horace Greeley have been able to put their favorite doc- 
trine." 

The next year he became President Monroe's Secretarj^ of War, and in this 
office he did some of tlie best work of his life. He felt that one of the greatest aids 
toward getting- the country into shape to be defended, if it were necessary, would 
be a thorough s^'stem of intei-nal improvements, so he prepai'ed a g-eneral outline 
of a vast plan of railroads and canals to be built throughout the country. 

When he took charg-e of the Department of War it was in disorder and confu- 
sion ; but he began at once to set it right, and soon brought the whole service into 
g-ood shape. His sj'stem was so simple and so efficient, that, in the main, it has 
been followed by all who have come after him, even standing- the test of the Civil 
War. He took a decided stand against the mean and cheap provisions and furnish- 
ing-s which many called a proper economy ; and, holding- his own with those who 
wanted to screw down the i-ations and the wag-es of privates and even of some of the 
officers, he finally succeeded in establishing- the fact, that in the army as much 
as elsewhere the best is the cheapest. 

Calhoun had many enemies as well as party opponents, and g-reat slanders were 
raised about him when there was a prospect of his Leing- elected President, but 
time has shown that he was not guilty of the abuses he was accused of. There was 
a g-ood deal of reason for this jealousy, for he Avas very popular with his party, and 
was elected Vice-President with John Quincy Adams in 18'^4, and re-elected with 
General Jackson four years later. It was about this time that he chang-ed his 
opinions on the tariff, and, along- with many others, took up the side of free trade 
because it was more to the interests of the South. Mr. Calhoun had no doubt 
been sincere before, and was sincere now, only before he had felt a broad national 
interest, and now it was the welfare of the Southern part of the nation that lay 
closest to his heart. From this time, with no less skill and genius than before, he 
went in new w^ays. For the sake of defeating- the tarilf bill of 18-38, he brought 
out the doctrine of the sovereignty of the States, which was the bottom principle 
of disunion. He wrote a paper called the ''South Carolina Exposition," setting- 
forth that a State could nullify unconstitutional laws — that is, that any State 
Legislature could say : "Accorcjing- to our A-iews, this law is not warranted by the 
Constitution, and so, to us, it is no law ; we look upon it as a dead law, null and 
void, and will not obey it." 

He resigned from the Vice-Presidency seveml months before the close of the 



John Calchvell Calhoun. 93 

term, and became a Senator. Now at this time the Southern States had steadily 
g-rown tog-ether and had entirely different interests and feeling's fi'oin the North. 
This was chiefly because the cotton cidture had gi'own so that it was the one great 
feature of life to them. The prosperity of the people and of the States hung upon 
it, and it hung- upon slave-service. So, a protective tai'iff was exactly what the 
South did not want, althoug"h several years before they had thought it would be a 
g-ood thing and were anxious for it. The reason was that tlie white people felt 
themselves too good to woi'k with their hands, and so they did not set up any man- 
ufactures, but made their money chiefly through cotton and other products which 
could be raised by neg-ro service. So, the wealth and industry of the South were in 
plantations, and the people had to g"o somewhere else to buy about all the articles 
that they had. The protective tariff made it necessary for them to buy inferior 
American goods at a higher price than the value of real European wares, or to pay 
extravagant prices for the foreig-n g-oods. 

Thus it was that, in the interest of the South, Calhoim came to believe that free 
trade was the right principle. He swayed the opinions of a great mass of people, 
and in the latter part of 1832 was the means of a convention being held in South Car- 
olina which " nullified " the tariff, and made warlike preparations to i-esist the col- 
lection of the revenue on foreign goods brought mto that State, and to secede from 
the Government if any attempt w^as made to force them to obey the law. Presi- 
dent Jackson was then working to have the tariff law repealed, but he was sworn 
to see it carried out so long as it was a law, and he let it be known that he was re- 
solved to arrest Calhoun for treason on the first open act against the Union. This 
fi'ightened the nullifiers, for they all knew that when he sent down the naval force 
to Charleston Harbor, and despatched General Scott with a body of militia, that 
he meant every word of his declaration when he said, " The Union must and shall 
be preserved ! " So they '" suspended " their " nullification," and accepted Henry 
Clay's " worst compromise " when it was offered the next year. 

Calhoun was now strongly and openly opposed to President Jackson ; he took 
sides against him about the removal of deposits from the United States Bank, and 
used the question of slavery as a means of uniting- the South to vote for himself as 
the next President. From the year before the election of Van Buren to 1847, he 
made it his great aim to force the slavery issue on the North. He spoke in favor 
of slavery many times, afhrming it to be a positive political and social good, and, 
knowing that it could only be gained by State sovereignty, he fought for that 
measure with all his might and power. 

His desire to become President was greater than ever now. He was far ahead 
of his rival. Van Buren, in popular favor, but President Jackson was more popu- 
lar than either, and as he favored Van Buren, Calhoun was not even nominated. 



94 One Hmidred Famous Americans. 

He had done eveiything- in his power to get the nomination, and now turned bit- 
terly ag-ainst General Jackson and the Unionists, and bent all his energies to forc- 
ing the slavery question on the North as fast as possible. While Webster and 
Clay were laboring to put off the day of strife, Calhoun was doing his utmost to 
bring it on. He was already back in the Senate, but left it for a short time to take 
the office of Secretary of State in Tyler's Cabinet, just long enough to secure the 
annexation of Texas, after which he returned to the Senate. The next year he made 
a strong speech against the Mexican War, and also against the plan of David Wil- 
mot, called the Wilmot Proviso. This was a resolution to buy the territory wanted 
from Mexico, provided that slavery should not be allowed in it ; it was supported 
by Webster in his last speech before the Senate, but was strongly opposed by the 
slavery party. They were not in favor of the war for about the same reasons, for 
they knew that the Northern party would fight against slavery in the new terri- 
tor}^, if it were acquired, and that instead of extending slavery in the new lands, the 
Southerners would, if they favored the war, be onlj^ defeating their own great ob- 
ject and giving more cause to the North. But the war went on, and the territory 
was gained without paying the two million dollars ; the Oregon bill passed, shut- 
ting out slavery from that section, and, soon after, California, with an anti-slavery 
Constitution, was admitted to the Union. Meanwhile the feeling grew, till politi- 
cal parties, religion, and almost everj'thing in the country was split into slavery 
and anti-slavery divisions. 

There is scarcely anything known of the home-life and the private character of 
Mr. Calhoun. In history he is an eminent figure, as the leading Southern Represen- 
tative of his time, as Secretary of War, Vice-President, and the great " nullifier ; " 
but, among his family and friends, there is little told, except that he was a 
just and kind master to his slaves, a cultivated, honest, and pure-minded 
man. As a statesman, in the highest sense of the word, he stands in the fore- 
most ranks. 

His biographer says : " The part that he played in the great conflict, when the 
sentiment and feeling of two different ages came together at Mason and Dixon's line, 
is the only one that puts liim into the very first rank of the men v.iio have acted 
on the political stage of the United States, though he has done enough else to 
secure for his name a lasting place in the annals of his country." 

He had great power over a large portion of the people in his day ; his opinions in- 
fluenced almost the whole of the South ; his party held him in the highest esteem. 
He believed heartily that his views were right, and he carried them out with sin- 
cerity and ability. He had great foresight as a statesman, keen judgment, and 
wonderful caution in many things. Even the most eminent men of his time, who 
held views opposite to his, praised his splendid talents and ability. 



Edward Everett. 



95 



John C. Calhoun was horn in the Ahheville District, South Carolina, March 18 
1783. He died in Washing-ton, D. C, March 31, 1850. 




Edward Everett. 



There was no man of this period who had the qualities of a scholar, an orator, 
5^nd a statesman so successfully combined as Edward Everett. He graduated 



96 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

from Harvard with the highest honors in tlie class of 1811, which had a number 
of students who afterward became distinguished men. 

" V en he was twenty-one, he was pastor of the famous old Brattle Street Uni- 
tari.:n Church in Boston. Soon the eloquence, learning-, and logic of his preaching 
began to attract the attention of the most scholarly men of New England, and be- 
fore long he was offered the position of Professor of Greek in Harvard College. 
He accepted the honorable post, but took four years to prepare himself for its 
duties. In 1819, fresh from study and travel in Europe, he came back to America 
and took his place in the college. In his classes, his writings, and by a series of 
brilliant lectures upon Greek Literature and Ancient Art, he awoke a greater in- 
terest in classical studies than had ever before been known in America, and which 
is even felt to this day. 

Beside fitting himself for his college duties while abroad, he gained a great 
deal of knowledge upon the history and principles of law, and of the political 
systems of Europe. This enabled him to take broad and profound views on 
the politics of his own country, and he soon began to take an active interest in 
the great questions of the time. The first public speeches he made showed that 
he had both the ki. .ledge and judgment in national affairs and the stirring 
eloquence in setting forth his opinions Avhich make a statesman and orator of the 
first rank. 

In 1825 he was sent to Congress, where he remained for ten years, taking an 
active part on the side of the National Republicans and in support of John Quincy 
Adams upon most of the great questions of that very eventful time. During the 
whole i)eriod, he was upon the Committee on Foreign Relations, and part of the 
time its chairman. He rarely served upon a standing or select committee that he 
was not chosen to draw up the report, for few people, if any, have ever presented 
to Congress such perfect papers as his. They are looked upon as models even 
now. His writings upon public affairs, in letters, reports, and magazine essaj^s, 
are among the best of their kind in the world, and are still read a great deal in 
Europe as well as in America. His speeches and addresses, which are ranked as 
some of the best ever delivered by any American orator, are marked by a graceful 
and elegant style, and are treasuries of correct and valuable information. 

After ten years of national service at Washington Mr. Everett became Gov- 
ernor of Massachusetts, and his term is one of the most noted for progress in the 
history of the State. The Board of Education was organized during that time, the 
normal schools — or schools for teaching- and training- teachers— were founded, and 
other important public affairs were set a-going or carried successfully on. He 
lost the re-election by only one vote, and was not in any public office again until 
after General Harrison became President, and then, chiefly by the influence oi 



Henry Charles Carey. 07 

Webster, wiio was Secretary of State, Mr. Everett was appointed Minister at the 
Court of St. James, in London. 

This was in about the year 1841, when af^iirs were not in a very pleasant state 
between England and the United States, and any less able and judicious man than 
Mr. Everett might have ruiiia.l instead of smoothed the troubles about the north- 
eastern boundary, and several other important matters then being agitated. But 
he was as good a diplomat as he was scholar, Eej)resentative, and Governor, and 
performed his duties at Court so that he reflected distinguished honor upon the 
administration which he represented, and the highest credit upon himself. 

He was President of Harvard University for four years after he came back to 
this country, and in 1852 accepted President Fillmore's call to take the place of 
the Secretary of State, made vacant by the death of his great friend and fellow- 
worker, Daniel Webster. In a few months there was a new President, and having 
been already elected Senator, he left the Cabinet to represent Massachusetts in the 
Senate. Although in poor health, and forced to resign at last, he kept to his seat 
as long as possible, and took an active part in the exciting and important events 
that were thicldy crowded into the last few years before the war. 

It was his earnest hope that slavery might be put down without bloodshed ; 
but when he saw that the conflict was sure to come, he gave all the energy and 
strength he possessed to supporting President Lincoln and the Federal Govern- 
ment. He was too old and his health was much too broken for him to undertake 
any action in the struggle, but he lived to see the victory of the Union side and 
the return of peace. 

It is chiefly due to Mr. Everett that Mount Vernon is owned by the Govern- 
ment. By lectui*es, writings, and steady labors in many ways, he succeeded in 
having the sum of almost a hundred thousand dollars raised, with whicli the home 
and the burial-place of Washington were purchased of the great Commander's 
nephew, so that they might belong forever to the American people. 

Edward Everett was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 11,1794. He 
died in Boston January 15, 1865. 

Among all our statesmen Henry Charles Ciirey ranks first as a great 
political economist. This is the name given to the science of making and 
managing laws for the welfare of the trade and industries of the Government, es- 
pecially as they are influenced by the laws regarding foreign goods imported 
into the country and sold in the same markets with home products. 

Mr. Carey was the son of an Irish gentleman, who, at the beginning of this 
century, had the best book business in America. By the time he was nine years 
old he had already learned from his father " a love of books and a keen, practical 



98 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

outlook upon life," for Matthew Carey was not oiily a dealer but a publisher and 
writer. He issued the old American Museum, known as the most impor- 
tant periodical that has ever been attempted in America, and was also the author 
of about sixty books or jjamphlets. Many of these were on political economy, for 
old Mr. Carey was a firm believer in what is known as the Protective Policy. 
Having charged himself with the special care of his son's education, the boy 
not only grew up to the book business, but also as a thinker upon national 
affairs, and that spirit which his father infused in him grew and grew until 
Henry Charles Carey stood before the country as the foremost of her political 
economists, and finally became leader of the doctrine of Protection in the world. 

But before tliat time, beginning with when he was twelve years old, he was 
in the book business, first in charge of his father's store in Baltimore, and then 
from the time he was twenty-one till he was forty-five he was himself a publisher. 

In 1824 he started the system of Book Sales in place of the old Literary Fairs, 
at which the publishers used to meet once a year for a general interchange upon 
book matters. He published the works of Cooper and Washington Irving for 
many years, and was ahead of all other American houses in reprinting Sir Walter 
Scott's " Waverley Novels." His house was one of the first, if not the very first, 
to pay English authors for the privilege of reprinting their works in this country, 
and in prosx)erity and good reputation the firm had a foremost place among all 
American publishers. After awhile Mr. Carey himself became an author, and 
published a set of " Essays on the Rate of Wages." This, it has been said, stmck 
the keynote of his whole work on political economy in the years that followed. By 
the logic of facts, he refuted the senseless arguments so long set forth by the Eng- 
lish, who were the leaders of the "dismal science " of political economy, and by 
looking into and setting fairly forth the facts he formed his theories and aroused 
a world-wide interest in a branch of the art of government that is of greatest mo- 
ment to every nation. In the three years after these Essays appeared, he pub- 
lished the three volumes of the " Principles of Political Economy," which drew to 
itself a great deal of attention in Europe and was translated into Italian and 
Swedish. 

Mr. Carey had now retired from business with a fortune, and devoted the 
most of his time to study and writing. Along with the other papers, he also 
brought out a treatise on " The Credit System in France, Great Britain, and the 
United States," which has been called a work that set forth a masterly theory of 
the banking system ; it certainly attracted a great deal of attention and exerted 
a strong influence upon law-making. This came out about the time of the great 
money troubles in this country, when people, public institutions, the State banks, 
and the nation itself suddenly found themselves covered with debts and without 



1% 



hf 



Henry Charles Carey. 



99 



fnoney to meet tliem — a terrible state of affairs that made an epoch in our coun- 
try's history and is forever linked with the time when Martin Van Buren sat in 
the President's chair. 

Perhaps no man in America watched the nation's affairs of money and trade — 
that is, the political economy of the land — so closely as did Henry C. Carey. Sud- 
denly iho, idea came to him, as with a flash of lightning-, that the whole system of 




Henry Charles Carey. 

Ricardo and Malthus, upon which about every government was managed, was 
an error, and that with it must fall the system of British free trade. He had 
felt that there was some error in this before, although he had believed that trade 
between foreign countries should be free, which was exactly the opposite of his 
father's views. He was lying in bed, but as he said himself, he "jumped out of 
bed, dressed, and was a Protectionist from that hour." 

He then became the greatest advocate of protection in the world, and was so 
acknowledged in all countries. The protective system is to- have a tariff, or tax 



t-ofC. 



100 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

upon foreign goods large enough to protect home manufactures, and it holds that 
the real interests of classes are to help, and not to work against one another. 
" He followed up his convictions with all the earnestness and industry of his 
ardent nature, doing an immense amount of almost continuous work in news- 
papers, magazines, pamphlets, and books from this time forward to the end of his 
life," a period of more than thirty years. 

His new doctrines haA^e now almost completely taken the place of the old ideas, 
especially in Germany, where his books have been most widely studied. His book, 
" The Past, Present, and Future," opened a new era for political economy in ISiS, 
and presented the world with new ideas on the progress of agTiculture, wages, and 
society, and contradicted the opinions of Malthus and Eicardo, the Englishmen, 
who had been looked upon as tlie only people who could really know anything 
about this deep and mysterious subject of political economy. 

But it was not until ten years after this that Mr. Carey's greatest work, '' The 
Principles of Social Science," began to come before the world. This, too, made a 
great impression. It shows that the great need of human beings is to be with 
others, and sets forth the necessity of difl'erent industries to keep life going among 
them. 

Many of his works, which made up thirteen volumes of books and many thou- 
sand pages of pamphlets and newspaper and magazine articles, have been trans- 
lated into the important languages of the Old AYorld, and upon the principles they 
set forth are founded the views and works of many of the leading political econo- 
mists of Europe and this country. 

A\Tien the Crimean War broke out in 1854, as a constant writer for the 
Tribune, he not only placed that paper, but through it brought nearly all other 
leading newspapers in the North, to the side of Russia against England, whose 
iwlicy he thoroughly hated (for good reasons) ; and this siding with Russia in 1854: 
resulted in Russia's siding with the LTiiited States Goverument — or the Union 
side — in the War of the Rebellion. 

He helped to organize the Republican party iu 1850, and during the war he 
was often in conference with President Lincoln and his Secretary of the Treasury, 
Salmon P. Chase. 

Many other national interests received his cordial attention and helping hand, 
and the influence which he exerted Avas the means of carrying or defeating several 
measures in law-making to tlie beuetit of our nation. His private life was as noble 
and good as that in public. In all conditions he was one who loved his fellow-men. 

He had a tall, heavy, and iui[)osing ligure, and a genial, beautiful face, that 
looked remarkably like the well-known portrait of his illustrious German acquain- 
tance, Alexander von Humboldt, his eyes being brown, while Humboldt's were blue. 



Amasa Wallcer. 101 

In Pliiladelphia, where he lived most of the time, Ids interest, and aid both in 
X)erson and money went out to all that makes men happier and better ; societies, 
clubs, the drama, opera, and literary associations — all things started for worthy 
l»urposes had in him their friend and helper. 

Henry Charles Carey was born December 15, 1793, and died in Philadelphia, 
the city of his birth, October 13, 1879. 

Among all other j)olitical economists in this country there have been none 
equal to Mr. Carey, either among Protectionists or Free Traders. The most emi- 
nent of the Protectionists, usefid and able as they are, are for the most part but 
folhnvers of the principles he thought out and laid down, while the representatives 
of the other side have mostly been supporters of the English principles of trade. 
These were originated by Thomas E. Malthus and David Eicardo — both great 
and profound men — and have been most ably suj^ported by John Stuart Mill, of 
England, and Frederic Bastiat, of France. In this country they have been taken 
up and approved by some of our most thoughtful literary j)eople, and have been 
brought into politics by statesmen of the highest standing. John C. Calhoun, one 
of the ablest men of his times, was an ardent Free Trader for the sake of the South, 
and many others have long held that its principles were the right ones for the 
Government to adopt. Their general argument is that the people of a country 
will naturally i)roduc8 the article on which they can make the most money. So, 
they say, if a government levies taxes to force manufactures which the people do 
not take up naturally, it makes part of them spend their time in a kind of employ- 
ment that does not pay as well as others that they could have if trade were free; 
and, they say, that whde this may be a good thing for employers and tliose who 
own the manufactories, it is against the interests of the workingmen, or largest class 
of people, of the country. Therefore Free Traders are in favor of no more tarilf 
on imported goods than the Government needs for a revenue. Their principle is, 
no duties for protection, and the lowest possible rates for what income tax- — or 
revenue tariff — is necessary. The arguments in favor of this are broad and many, 
and are advocated for various reasons by men whose interests often are widely 
different; and while no other man has shown genius for these matters equal to 
that of Henry Carey, his is not the only name famous among American political 
economists. 

We have had a few writers on free trade whose works rank not far below those 
of the celebrated English and French authors. Of these three of the most noted 
bear the name of Walker. The first and probably the greatest among them was 
Ainasa Walker. He was about the same age as Mr. Carey and lived during 
the same exciting times. But, unlike the famous Protectionist, a large part of 



102 (hie Hundred Famous Americans. 

Mr. Walker's life was spent in public offices. Witli a common-scliool education 
and a beginning in the world as a Boston merchant, he only got into public life 
gradually, at first as an anti-slavery worker and a delegate to the great peace 
conventions held in Europe. Meanwhile he gave a great deal of study to matters 
of trade, and finance. After a time he became known as one of the ablest 
thinkers ui)on that subje<3t in the country, and was given the degree of Doctor of 
Laws. For seven years he was Professor of Political Economy in Oberlin College, 
Ohio, and his book, the " Science of Wealth : A Manual of Political Economy," 
has always been considered a standard work upon American Free Trade. 

When Dr. Walker was about fifty years old, he began to take quite an impor- 
tant place in the State politics of Massachusetts, and in the course of three or four 
years was chosen as Secretary of State in the Cabinet of Millard Fillmore. He 
was then a member of the old Whig party, and of course resigned when Franklin 
Pierce, the Democrat, was elected President. After that he served only twice 
more in Government office, once in the Constitutional Convention of 1853, and later, 
during the Civil War, as a Eepresentative from Massachusetts in the Thirty- 
seventh Congress. At this time he was also a lecturer at Amherst College, 
where he taught the young men — and influenced a large i)ortion of the country — 
in the princii)les and arguments of what to him was the only true method of gov- 
ernment in regard to trade and manufactures, and in all the other great questions 
of his deep and difficult science. 

Dr. Walker's books were not many. " The Nature and Uses of Money and 
Mixed Currency" is an important work on finance; but beside that and the 
" Science of Wealth " his literary work was chiefly in the volumes recording the 
doing of the Massachusetts agricultural societies. 

Amasa Walker was born at Woodstock, Connecticut, May 4, 1799. He died 
in North Brookfield, Massachusetts, October 29, 1875. 

Of nearly the same age as the celebrated Amherst Professor of Political Econ- 
omy was Kobert Jiiiiies Walker. He was a Pennsylvanian, a graduate of the 
University of that State, and a lawyer. When twenty-five years old he moved 
away out to Natchez, Mississippi, where he soon gained a good practice and stepped 
forward into jmblic life. 

He went to Washington to sit in the Senate in the year 1835, and was marked 
at once as a zealous Democrat and supporter of Free Trade. He did a great deal 
toward the success of the party that was then trying to annex Texas to the United 
States. During the same month in which this Wiis accomplished Mr. Polk became 
President and Mr. Walker was called to his Cabinet as Secretary of the Treasury. 
Throughout that stormy, warring, and eventful administration he was an active 



Francis Amasa Wallcer. 103 

and useful man. It was then that his views on Free Trade attracted the most 
attention and exerted the widest influence. The next President, Zachary Taylor, 
was a Whig, and the ardent Democratic Mississippian went back to private life the 
very month that the inauguration took place. Eight or ten years later. President 
Buchanan made him Governor of Kansas, but he did not keep the office for quite 
a year, because the policy of the National Government did not seem to him right. 
He was a stanch anti-slavery man, and his reason for resigning was because he 
felt "unwilling to aid in forcing slavery on Kansas by fraud and forgery" — a 
reason that tells a good deal for so few words, both about himself and about some of 
the affairs of our country during James Buchanan's administration. Although 
a Democrat, he was a loyal Unionist — such men were called War Democrats — 
and going to Europe, as a financial agent, he did a great deal of service to the 
United States by making large sales of our Government bonds. After that time 
he was not again in public life. 

Robert J. Walker was born at Northumberland, Pennsylvania, July 19, 1801. 
He died in Washington, D. 0., November 11, 1869. 

The year before Dr. Walker began to lecture at Amherst, there graduated 
from the college a namesake of his, Francis Amasa Walker, who also be- 
came a noted Free Trader, and one of the most eminent of American political 
economists. Young Mr. Walker — ^who was then twenty years old — left his Alma 
Mater only a short time before the outbreak of the Rebellion. As soon as the 
war-cloud burst, he entered the Union Army, and by gallant service lie came out 
at its close a brigadier-general. In the Bureau of Statistics, as Superintendent of 
the Census, and as Indian Commissioner, the years of his life until he was past 
thirty were taken up in active work for the Government. 

Meanwhile he had carried on a good deal of study, especially in the science of 
government, and in 1872 he became the Professor of Political Economy and His- 
tory at Yale College, where he gained the reputation of being one of the ablest 
American scholars of that science, and perhaps the most influential of all living 
advocates of free trade. In 1881 he became President of the Massachusetts 
School of Technology in Boston. 

His writings which probably caused him the greatest amount of painstaking 
labor are the Census reports of 1870 and 1880, but those which have brought him 
the most fame are the " Wages Question " ; a comprehensive work on " Money " ; 
"Political Economy "; and "Bimetallism," the last named published in 1890. 

Dr. Walker was born in Boston in 1840, and died January 5, 1897. 



104 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Another author of high authority on free trade is Arthur Latham Perry, 
a New Hampshire man. After having passed some years in newspaper work and 
in the ministry, he wasformanj'' j^ears Professor of Political Economy at Williams 
College, Williamstown, Massachusetts, of which he was a graduate. 

Mr. Perry was born in L^yme, New Hampshire, February 27, 1830. He is 
still living at Williamstown. 

The statesmen who bad been most active in the afl'au's that led up to the Civil 
War were forced by age and death to pass the reins of governmieut into new hands 
at the oi)euing of the coutlict. For the most part, those that took theu* places 
were young men, without exi)erienee and untried in the ditliculties and cares of 
state, but they were none the less statesmen of power and wisdom. At the call of 
duty patriotism, self-sacritice, and ambition rose within them at a single bound 
and i>lace(l them before the ])eople, ready for immediate action. 

Foreuu)st ii: • aeir ranks was Abraham Lincoln. " He was a man," says 
Emerson, " who grew according to his need ; his mind mastered the problem of 
the day; and as the inoblem grew, so did his apprehension of it. ... If 
ever a man was fairly tested, by resistance, by slander, and by ridicule, he was. f 
But in four years of battle days, his endurance, his resources, his generosity and 
forgiveness were constantly being tried and were never found wanting. There, by 
his courage, his justice, his even temi)er, his fertile counsel, his humanity, he stood 
a heroic figure in the center of a heroic epoch. He is the true history of the Amer- 
ican peoi)le in his time ; the pulse of twenty million people throbbed in his heart, 
and the thoughts of their minds were uttered by his tongue." 

He was the greatest, the grandest man in the whole land, yet he belonged to 
the middle class of people, and had had as humble a beginning as the poorest of his 
countrymen. He was a thorough American, born in a Kentucky log-cabin, an 
emigrant to the AVest — first to Tennessee, and then to Indiana — in his boyhood, a 
hard-working lad, and a self-made man. His family was very poor, but they were 
all good people, and Mrs. Lincoln, '* Little Abe's" mother, Avas an earnest, noble 
woman. She encouraged him to read and to study all he could. 

15ut the chances for getting an education were very small in that Western 
wilderness. All the schooling Abraham e\er had was in less than one year ; but 
he learned to read and write, and that Avas enough to start him. He practiced 
writing on tlie ground with a stick or by scratching upon the bark of trees. When 
it became knoMii among the neighbors that Mr. Lincoln's boy could write, he was 
often called upon to send letters to their far-off friends. He was always willing to 
be their juMunan, for it gave him chances to im])rove his handwriting and helped 
him to learn to express his thoughts well, lie was also very fond of reading. 



Abraham Lincoln. 



105 



His books were the Bible, J^sop's Fables, Pilgrim's Proj?ress, Wcem's Life of 
Washiugton, and the Life of Henry Clay. He not only read these again and again, 
bnt committed most of them to memory, for books were scarce in those days, es- 
pecially in the West. 

Mrs. Lincoln's frail body could not bear the rough frontier life, and when Abe 
was ten years old she died ; but he was not too young to remember her. Her 
brave heart, her goodness and sacred teachings were never forgotten; they in- 




Abraham Lincoln. 



fluenced his whole character. In a couple of years there was another Mrs. Lincoln, 
also a kind and noble woman, who helped and encouraged her husband's ambitious 
little son in all that was good. 

While the boy was fond of study and of reading all the books he could find, he 
was not a shirk on the farm ; and verj^ soon he began to be hired out by the day. 
In someway he had caught a few glimpses of a greater, broader life than this hard- 
working one in an Indiana clearing, wliich only gave them a cabin to live in, and 
sometimes not enough to eat. He longed to know more of this new world, and 



106 One Hundred Famous Amen'eans. 

after he was eighteen he had a couple of chances to go down the river with prod- 
uce. Then he saw all he could, did his errands well, and came promptly back, for 
Abe Lincoln never thought of nmning away from his father and mother and his 
brothers and sisters because he believed himself made for something better than 
the hard life on the farm. But when he was twenty-one, the family made another 
move — this time to Illinois. After he had done his share, and a pretty large share, 
too, in getting the new cabin built and the farm fenced in and the corn planted, he 
told his father that as he had grown to be a man, and they were all well started 
again now, he thought he would set out to see wliat he could do for himself; and 
Mr. Lincoln agreed that it was right and fair that he shoidd. 

He went to a more thickly-settled part of the State, and whatever he found to 
do that was square and honest he did, and in the best way possible. He now 
began to study English grammar, and spent all his extra time in gaining knowl- 
edge. The people that he met respected him for his perfect honor ; they loved 
him for his kindness, good temper, and wit ; and the many men of that rough 
country who thought strength and muscle made manliness, looked upon *' Honest 
Abe " as their king. 

Mr. Lincoln's first office under the Government was the little New Salem post- 
office, which he kept in his hat, so that when people found him they found the post- 
master on duty. His second public office was in the Illinois Legislature, which he 
entered when twenty-five years old. He was re-elected three times, and for many 
years was the leading member of the Whig party in that State. 

Meanwhile he had settled to live in Springfield, where he had become well 
known as a rising young surveyor and smart lawyer. He married a lady from 
Lexington, Kentucky, and soon built up an excellent law business, keeping active 
and full of interest in the State politics at the same time. In 184:0 he was sent to 
CongTess by a very spirited election, being the only Whig out of the whole of Illi- 
nois' seven representatives, who went to Washington in the midst of the bitter 
contest about slavery, when Clay, Webster, and Calhoun were the leading states- 
men of the nation. Lincoln, who had long been an admirer of Henry Clay, was 
always in fiivor of the Federal Government, no slavery, and peaceful settlements. 
When the Missomi Compromise had to be repealed by the passage of the Nebraska 
Bill, in 1851, Lincoln took the deepest interest in the increased ardor of the times. 
He was nominated by the Illinois Eepublicans for the Senate against Judge Doug- 
las, who was well known to be the ablest politician and the best debater among 
the Western Democrats. Challenging his opponent to a set of public discussions 
upon the views and policy of their i)arties, Lincoln fairly outshone the Judge in 
talents, although he lost the election, wliicli was made by the Legislature. He 
showed in these debates so much depth of judgment and real political ability 



Abraham Lincoln. ■ 107 

that lie was deemed the best candidate for the Eepublican party in the next Pres- 
idential election. The Republicans and all other x)arties knew that this contest 
was to be the most important the country ever had, for it would decide whether 
slavery should be allowed to grow with the Republic, or should be from that 
time forth confined to the limits then upon it. It was the sharpest, bitterest 
campaign ever held in this country, and when it was finally decided, there was 
one large rejoicing party, the Republicans ; one bitterly disappointed party, the 
Southern Democrats ; and two smaller sulky parties, the Northern Democrats and 
the American party, who wanted the slavery question dropped out of politics. 

For many years the Southern leaders had been getting ready to separate their 
States, or secede, from the Union ; and when it was announced that Lincoln had 
been elected President by the Republicans, and that their candidate, John 0. 
Breckimidge, was defeated, they knew that their time had come ; for the declared 
princii)les of the Republican party were that it was the right and duty of Congress 
to forbid slavery in the Territories ; and Lincoln was a man to carry these j)rinci- 
ples out. He was opposed to extending slavery into the Territories ; but he was 
never a strong Abolitionist ; yet when the nation came to the x)lain question of 
slavery or no slavery, or rather Union or no Union, he did not stop a moment over 
the answer — Union and no slavery. 

Seven States had done all in their power to break away from the Union while 
Buchanan was still President, but the Southerners and their friends now centered 
their displeasure on Mr. Lincoln. Several attempts were made to take his life, 
while he was on the way from Sj>ringfield to Washington ; but all of them were 
broken up, and in spite of many threats that he should never become President, he 
was duly inaugurated on the 4th of March, 1861. His inaugural address was 
firm, mild, and liberal, but it was for the welfare of the whole nation. He said 
that no State or combination of States had a right to secede from the Govern- 
ment, and this the Southerners caught up as a declaration of war. They began at 
once to make preparations for a conflict ; and in a little over a month the first shot 
against the Union was fired upon Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, which 
was commanded by United States troops. So, from the very first, Lincoln was 
plunged into the deepest cares and anxieties, while he was yet a stranger to 
the public and the public to him, and with a Cabinet new to himself and the na- 
tion. It is a long, long chapter, the greatest in our history, that records the man- 
agement of the Government during this war ; there was everything to do, nothing 
done ; but the wisdom, the judgment, and the unselfish devotion of the new Pres- 
ident and his chief officers never failed. We owe to him, more than to any one 
else, that the North and South are still the United States, and that our country is 
a peaceful and prosperous one, where all men have the same rights. The people 



108 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

gladly cliosc him for another term, for there was uot liis equal, or the uear approach 
to it, in all the laud. He lived to see the fightiug over, the good cause won, and 
peace restored ; but in the midst of the rejoicing, forty days after his re-election, 
he was shot and killed by Wilkes Booth, who thought by this act to serve the con- 
quered party of the South, and to win praise and fame for himself, in both of which 
he failed. 

Abraham Lincoln was born on the 12th of February, 1809, in a portion of Har- 
din County, Kentucky, that is now a part of Larue County. He died in Wash- 
ington, D. C, April 15, 18G5. 

Next to Mr. Lincoln, the most important, responsible, and influential person in 
this country during the Kebelliou was Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War. 
After that of the President, his office was then the most serious iu the nation, and 
it is believed that there was no one in the laud who could have better fulfilled 
its duties. He was able to lay plans, organize troops, give orders to the officers, 
and see that all these duections and many more were properly carried out. He 
was a fearless, energetic, resolute, powerful, and patriotic citizen, and it is due to 
his. judgment and wisdom and to his luiceasing labors in the War Department, and 
as the President's helper and adviser, that some of the most critical periods ni the 
conflict resiUted in victory for the nation. He took his place in 18G2, before people 
had forgotten his fearless and useful speech as Attorney-General under Buchanan, 
when he had denounced the ])lans of those who would break up the Union, and 
asserted the rights of the nation. 

The President had never seen him, and Mr. Stanton had no idea of his appoint- 
ment until he received it, but Mr. Lincoln, a good judge of men, soon came to love 
him and to trust his judgment. The President once said to an officer, " When 
you have Mr. Stanton's sanction in any matter, you have mine, for, so great is 
my confidence in his judgment and patriotism, that I never wish to take an im- 
portant step myself without first consulting him.'' 

When General McClellan would have left the Capital without enough forces to 
protect it against a sharp attack, and Secretary Stanton, in carrying out the 
President's orders, retained General McDowell's division from following the 
orders of the Commander-in-Chief, there was a great deal of bitter indignation 
against "the way the Secretary was using poor McClellan;" but Mr. Stanton I 
made no effi)rt to defend himself, and even his old personal friends felt that he 
was acting very strangely and unlike himself. One man who had been intimate 
with him from boyhood wrote him about it, and to hiin Mr. Stanton explained the 
whole situation, but enjoined that the matter could not be made public, "■ for,'' 
he said, " General McClellan is at the head of our chief army, he must have every 



Edwin M. Stanton. 



lOD 



confidence and support, and I am willing that tbe whole world shall revile me 
rather than to diminish one grain of strength needed to conquer the rebels. In a 
struggle like this justice or credit to individuals is but dust in the balance." 




m>, 



-■■M 



4> 



r 



''i 






y 



fj- 






Edwtn M. Stanton. 



After Lee's surrender, when the Secretary handed his resignation to the Presi- 
dent, saying that the work for freedom, for whose sake he had taken this office, 
was now done, Mr. Lincoln was deeply moved. He tore the paper into pieces, and, 



110 One Hundred Famom Americans. 

throvdnff his arms arouml tlic Secretary, be said : " Stanton, you have been a 
good friend and a faithful public servant, and it is not for you to say when you 
will no longer be needed here." The President was shot soon after this, and the 
Secretary continued in his office, fulfilling its duties and carrying all its vast, 
troublous, and responsible cares, that none but he himself could even name. The 
Tenure of Office Bill was passed to prevent him and others from being removed on 
account of party principles, when it was to the welfare of the nation that they 
should remain. 

Stanton did not take part in the quarrel between Congress and Andrew Johnson, 
the next President after Lincoln ; but he suddenly became a figure in the unpleas- 
ant aftair. The Tenure of Office Act was passed by Congress over the President's 
veto — that is, after he had expressed his objection to its being a law by refusing 
to sign it. Then, being angry with Congress, and believing that it had no right 
to pass such an act, according to the Constitution, he determined to disobey it. 
So he ordered Secretary Stanton — against whom there was a strong feeling in 
Johnson's party — to leave the War Department ; and, when the Senate refused its 
consent, he paid no attention to it, but ordered a newly-appointed Secretary to 
take the place. Then CongTess accused the President of disoboying the laws, and 
being unfit for his office. A long trial for what is called impeachment took place 
before the Senate. Mr. Stanton, meanwhile, kept his post until the 2Gth of May, 
18G8, after it was decided that the President was not guilty of disobeying the 
laws. 

The next year he was appointed Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the 
United States, but he died in the same month that the appointment was made. 

His career before entering President Lincoln's Cabinet had begun by practicing 
law in his native town of Steubeuville, Oliio. At a little more than thirty years of 
age he was the leading lawyer of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. Gradually, as his 
ability came to be known, he was employed in the Supreme Court at Washington, 
and moved to the capital to live. The year before the war broke out he was made 
the United States Attorney-General. He was a Democrat, with strong, vigorous 
views after those of Andrew Jackson, but he was a thorough Unionist, and so 
belonged to what were called the War Democrats. 

He retired from the Attorney-Generalship after about a year, and the next 
year accepted the call to take charge of the War Department. So, his public life, 
like President Lincoln's, was a short one, but their names will always stand 
among those who have rendered the most imi)ortant, if not the longest, services to 
their country. 

Edwin M. Stanton was born in Steubeuville, Ohio, December 19, 1814. He died 
in Washington, D. C, December 21, 18GU. 



Salmon Portland Chase. 



Ill 



The fiuaucier of the Eebellion was Salmon Portland Chase. He became 
Secretary of the Treasiuy the day that Abraham Lincoln became President, and 
all through the war he managed the money matters of the nation with the great- 
est ability, energy, and courage. The times were gloomy and doubtful ; business 
and trade were all upset ; new industries were springing into importance and old 
ones were dying out; changes were taking place that not only affected money 
matters at home, but were altering our financial arrangements with other coun- 
tries, and " shook the civilized world like an earthquake." The nation was j)oor 







Salmon Portland Chase. 

and coin was scarce, yet there was the largest need of money the Government 
had ever known. A thousand miles of frontier were to be guarded, fleets were to 
be made, and large armies were to be formed, fitted out, and kept up ; for although 
the war had been a long time in coming, when it finally broke out the country was 
not prepared for it ; the War Department was in poor condition ; the public credit 
was low, and the revenues of the Government were scarcely large enough to have 
supported it if the country had been in peace and prosperity. 

This was the gloomy state of affairs that Secretary Chase had to meet when 
he took his seat in Lincoln's Cabinet ; knowing that a costly conflict was before 



112 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

them, and tliat it would rest cliiefly upon him whether the country's credit should 
be redeemed nnd her needs met through this crisis — which might last for 
man}" years — or whether the nation should become bankrupt, the armies fail for 
want of support, and the cause of Union and Liberty be lost to America forever. 
But he had the courage to meet his duty and the ability to fulfill it. He was 
now in the prime of life, and for ten years he had been an active worker in public 
aifairs ; he was sound, loyal, and undaunted, shrewd, cautious, and full of self- 
command. 

He first set to work to raise the needed money by borrowing or raising 
loans from wealthy people and institutions in this country. But the expenses 
soon grew so heavy that there was not specie enough in the United States to 
meet them. Some foreign loans lent us great aid, but Mr. Chase felt that 
the bulk of the funds should be raised at home ; so he formed a plan by which 
paper money, instead of coin, should be the leg.d tender — that is, acknowledged 
by the Government to be lawful money, and good to pay all debts. This paper 
money was issued in bills called " greenbacks," because the backs of them were 
printed with green ink. It was soon issued, and from the second year of the wiir 
until about twelve years after it was over, it was used by the Government to pay 
its expenses. But banks were not allowed to get out this currency unless they de- 
posited a little larger amount of bonds at Washington. Bonds are the certificates 
given for money received as loans; so, by this pl;'n, all the banks that wanted to 
issue paper currencj^ had to take i)art in loaniu;;- money to the Government. A 
National banking system was also established to help along the sale of bonds, 
and in this way a large part of the expenses of the conflict were met, and Mr. 
Chase had the whole banking capital of the United States placed in a posl'^ion 
where it must live or die with the country. It carried our nation through the 
terrible struggle, kept us from being overcome with debts to foreign nations — if 
any would have trusted our poor credit enough to lend us the sums needed — and 
gradually the time has come when coin is once more the national currency, bonds 
have been recalled, interests paid upon loans, and millions taken off of the debt to 
foreign powers. 

After the war, 3Ii-. Chase resigned, and in the fall of the same year, upon the 
death of Eoger B. Taney, President Lincoln appointed the tried and honored 
Secretary of his first administration as Chief Justice in his second. Mr. Chase 
had great ability and fame as a jurist. He had been a student under the honored 
scholar, William Wirt, after graduating from Dartmouth College, and was ad- 
mitted to the Ohio bar when he was twenty-two years old, and began to practice 
in Cincinnati. 

One of his first cases was in the cause of a poor black woman, claimed as a 



I 



Salmon rortland Chase. 113 

fugitive slave. Now, althougli Oiuciunati was in a free State, it was only separated 
by the Ohio River from the slavery territory, and most of the people were not in 
favor of abolition, because the largest interests of the city were connected with 
those of the slave States. It received most of its wealth and power from these 
human goods. The good society and best families into which Mr. Chase had made 
his way and been cordially received on account of his fine looks and manners and 
his energy, talent, and good scholarship, looked upon slavery and despised the 
negro about the same as the people further South, although, of course, they had 
no slaves themselves. So it was an unpopular thing for him to take the part of 
this poor colored woman. Yet he did it, and so placed himself openly on the side 
of the slaves. People said he had " ruined himself" as a lawyer. He lost his 
case, of course ; he expected that ; but he brought forth a defence that had never 
been heard of before, and which was afterwards recognized by the United States 
slave law of 1850. It was that "the phrase in the Constitution which demanded 
the giving up of fugitives to service on demand of masters, did not impose on the 
magistrates of the free States the responsibility of catching and returning shives." 
Congress — he said — had no right to impose any such duties on State magistrates, 
or to use the resources of the State in any way for this purpose. 

Before long he had another slave case to defend, and in it he asserted, what 
Charles Sumner afterward aflirmed in Congress, that when a master took his 
slaves into a free State he no longer had the right to hold him. This caused 
great excitement ; the decision went against him, for it was too much the 
custom for masters to go back and forth with their slaves from Kentucky into 
Cincinnati and other parts of the Ohio border for such a principle as that to be 
adopted. 

In 184:0 came on his great case of the Kentuckian, John Van Zandt, who, con- 
vinced that slavery was wrong, had freed his own slaves, and, settling on a farm 
near Cincinnati, gave food and shelter to any runaways that came to him, for 
which he was at last sued by the slave-owners. In this William H. Seward was 
associated with Mr. Chase, and then- noble pleas, which were as much in behalf 
of liberty for white people as for the blacks, had a great influence on public opinion. 
Mr, Chase made a very full argument before the United States Court, which was 
so able that the Judge did not make any eftbrt to answer it, and without even 
referring to it, decided over it and against the cause for which it plead. 

Tliis is the way in which the great lawyer began ; no practice at all at first, 
and then one decision after another going against him. Yet he did not lose fath 
in himself or the cause which he had now fairly taken up in law and in politics. 
He became one of the chief leaders of the Free-Soil party, which was made up in 
1843 of Abclitionists and former Democrats and Whigs who believed in the Wilmot 



114 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Proviso, when the Democrats and Whigs split upon the question of shivery in the 
Territories. 

In the same year Mr. Chase was made Governor of Ohio, and two years hiter 
his State sent liim to the United States Senate. It has been said that his i)res- 
ence " was haih^l as a tower of strength to the hard-tighting auti-slavery party at 
Washington." They braced themselves to tiglit the Kansas and Nebraska battle, 
for they (piickly saw that this hill was intended to " seize for slavery all the unoc- 
cupied land of the United States and turn the balance of x>ower and numbers for- 
ever into the slaveholders' hands." 

The six years that lay between this time and the call to the Treasury were 
filled with public work and cares, chiefly as Governor of Ohio, and as an imi)ortant 
member of the Republican party, which came very near nominating him, instead of 
Lincoln, for President. 

Salmon P. Chase was born in Cornish, New Hampshire, January 13, 1808. He 
died in New York City May 7, 1873. 



1 



\ 



Probably no statesman of his time was more deeply in earnest against the 
spread of slavery than WiHiaiu Henry Seward, President Lincoln's Secretary 
of State. He first took an open stand against it in about 1838, when he was Gov- 
ernor of New York. The Governor of Virginia claimed that New York State 
should give up three colored seamen who were charged with having aided a Vir- 
ginia slave to escape from his master. Governor Seward refused, saying that it 
was not lawful for any State to call upon another to punish or give up to punish- 
ment any one who has done an act that was only criminal according to its own 
laws, when, according to justice and humanity, it was a praiseworthy deed. 

Not long after this the Governor succeeded in having the New York Legisla- 
ture take another step against slavery. This was to repeal the law which allowed 
a slaveholder traveling Avith his slaves to hold them for nine months in New Y^ork 1 
State. Governor Seward was the first Whig wiio had ever been elected to this 
oflice, and he made his administration one of imi)ortance both to the State and to 
his party. He favored buikling roads and all internal improvements, helping 
along trade and all industries, reform in the law courts and chancery, and im- 
proving the public schools and other means of education. He had a great -deal of 
influence and poAver over public opinion. 

He had become famous some years before as a leader against the Free Masons, 
and, being very strongly opposed to that society, he did a great deal to keep up 
the excitement against it, which, centering in New Y^irk, spread throughout the 
country. 

Prom about this time, when Mr. Seward was between thirty-five and forty 



William Henry Seicard. 



115 



years old, until 1854, he was the senior member of wliat Horace Greeley called the 
firm of Seward, Weed & Greeley. This broke down the "Albany Regency" in 
1839, and for fifteen years — until Mr. Greeley withdrew — controlled New York 
State politics. Thurlow Weed and Horace Greeley were both powerful men, and, 
united with Seward, they led the most inliuential party in the State, enacted the 




William Henry Seward. 

laws, and forwarded the causes they fiivored, gave offices where they saw fit, and 
earned for New York the title of the " Empire State," by swaying the election of 
at least two Presidents of the nation. 

After two terms as Governor, he refused to take the chair again, and for 
about seven years gave most of his time to his profession. But he still took part 
in politics, speaking in favor of Henry Clay for President, opposing the annexation 
of Texas, and when the next election came round, doing all in his power for the 
election of President Taylor. A few months after this was decided, Mr. Seward 



116 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

was sent by tlie New York Legislature to the United States Senate, where he de- 
clared liiraself most openly opposed to the spread of slavery. He had been at 
Washington about a year when the debate about admitting California into the 
Union was held ; he made a famous speech, in which he said : " The Constitution 
devotes the national domain to the Union, to justice, to defense, to w elfare, and to 
liberty. But there is a higher law than the Constitution, which regulates our 
authority over the domain, and devotes it to the same noble purposes." 

The speech was talked about and repeated far and wide, and Senator Seward's 
" higher law " doctrine became one of the influences of the times, and a phrase in 
common use. 

In the same year he made another long and eloquent address against the Com- 
promise Bill of 1850, speaking so warmly in favor of liberty and freedom that 
many bitter things were said against him by his opponents. 

He was one of the chief organizers of the Eepublican party, which was formed 
about the same time as the Native American or Know Nothing party, and took a 
firm stand against the spread of slavery. He, too, was considered as a candidate 
for President in the election of 18G1, and probably would have been nominated but 
for the opposition of Horace Greeley, who was in favor of Lincoln. 

Just before the close of Buchanan's term, Seward made a very able speech in 
the Senate against disunion, and when President Lincoln took his oflBce, he saw in 
the great New York Senator a man of his own views, and offered him the first 
place in his Cabinet. As Secretary of State, Mr. Seward performed the greatest 
work of his life, wnth wisdom and skill, patience and untiring industry, guiding the 
diplomacy of the Federal Government successfully through all the dangers of the 
Civil War. 

One of the greatest acts in the record of his statesmanship was his manage- 
ment of what is called the Trent imbroglio, or quarrel. The United States war- 
vessel, the San Jacinto^ stopped the English mail-steamer, the Treyit, and took 
out of her two American passengers, who were Confederate Commissioners to 
Europe. This was doing just what we had declared that England had no right 
to do in 1812, and had made a war about. Now Great Britain was angry, and it 
seemed as if the tables would be turned on us. England sent troops and war- 
vessels to Canada and harshly demanded the Commissioners. Mr. Seward man- 
aged the matter with a great deal of tact, declaring that a wrong had heeu com- 
mitted and that the United States did not claim any right of search. The men 
were given up, and so the peace was kept. 

The two other most impcrtant acts of the great Secretary were his dignified 
and yet resolute action when the French invaded Mexico ; and his purchase of 
Alaska, the value of which we are but just beginning to find out now. 



William Henri/ Seward. 117 

When General Grant was elected President, Mr. Seward resigned Ms office, 
and nearly all the remainder of his life was spent in traveling in the Old World. 
Of these journeys we have a full account in his own j)leasant style— for which he 
was as famous in public speeches as in literary work— in the volume of " William 
H. Seward's Travels Around the World," edited by his adopted daughter. His 
speeches and orations were i)ublished in five volumes, and he was also the author 
of a Life of John Quiucy Adams, and a Life of De Witt Clinton. 

The marble monument above Mr. Seward's grave records the ei^itaph 

"He was Faithful." 

This tells the character-history of his life. One who knew him well, botli in public 
office and private acquaintance, has said that he never forsook a cause that he 
once took up. The most remarkable trait in his noble nature was the faithful 
and consistent way in which he held to principle. In a long political cireer, lie 
was guided by his own ideal of the ^'Higher Law," which meant to him truth, 
justice, and love of man ; and from this course no excitement, no desire for fame 
or position or any other iniluence could draw him. For many years he was in 
the midst of the most stirring events this nation has ever seen; great claims 
were upon him, bitter enemies were in opposition to him, and intense excitement 
surged about him on all sides. Through it all he was calm, watchful, and 
earnest, never forgetting that his duty to his country was above any personal 
feeling, and never even in zealous debate becoming abusive or unmanly. He 
was so thorough a gentleman, that even an insult did not unseat his dignity nor 
bring from him a retort of its own kind — though this was often violently ijrovoked. 

As a private citizen, among his townsmen at Auburn, he was held in great 
respect and confidence. His i)lace was always in the best society ; but his courtesy 
and interest were extended to people of every class. Merit, not position or wealth, 
won his friendship and sympatliy. His aid and support were always ready to 
help along all plans for doing good, either to the unfortunate or the forsaken ; 
and if any man, woman, or child— black or white, high or low — was suffering 
from wrongs that he could make right, time, talents, and money were earnestly 
devoted to their service. 

WUliam Henry Seward was born in the town of Florida, New York, May 16, 
1801. He died at Auburn, New York, October 10, 1872. 



LAAVYERS. 



THERE have been many great members of the American bar, who have also 
taken np duties in other professions, where they have risen to greater fame 
than they gained in the practice of hiw. Many of our foremost statesmen, orators, 
and sohliers were also lawyers 5 yet they rose to a higher rank out of the court 
than in it, and as men they belong first of all to the calling wherein they did their 
greatest work. For that reason many of our ablest lawyers are mentioned 
first of all among our statesmen, for the study and the practice of some branches 
of the law are the best means of fitting men for political life. A few, like Alex- 
ander Hamilton, Daniel Webster, and Kobert Y. Hayne, were almost equally 
eminent in both the public service and the professional i^ractice ; a few have be- 
come grand statesmen who were not particularly good lawyers ; very few have 
remained entirely out of public life ; but some have shone forth more eminent ia 
the legal profession than in any other. 

Such a man was Jolni Marshall. His name stands out so boldly on the 
pages of American history as a great Chief Justice, that many people do not know 
that he was also a soldier, a law-maker, an envoy, an historian, and a statesman, 
and that he filled these offices so well that his fame would rest securely in them if 
he had not served one other calling still more ably. 

He was born in a time of great cliauces in America, and became of age about 
two montlis after the Declaration of Indei)endeuee was made. Even at that age, 
he was already a bold and spirited lieutenant, leading the volunteer troops of his 
own county, Fauquier, Vii*giuia. Upon the first general sound to arms that 
rang through the Colonies, he had otfered himself to the army and been a leader ll 
in fonning a company, which was part of the first regiment of Minute-men raised . 
in Virginia. Captain Marshall he became in 1777, and his record shows a list of 
bold and gallant services in many campaigns. He led his command through the 
battles of Iron Hill, Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth, and during all 
the sufterings of the dreadful winter at Valley Forge he made life easier for all 
about him by his example of uncoinphiining patience, good temper, and lively, 



John Marshall. 



119 



story-telling liumors. He was with General Anthony Wayne at the assault on 
Stony Point, and afterward with the detachment to cover the retreat of Major 
Lee after his surprise of the enemy's post at Powles's Hook on July 19th. Thus 




John Marshall. 

his name is connected with two of the most brilliant actions that took place in the 
campaign of 1779. 

' Soon after that the term of his comi)any's enlistment ended, and he was with- 
out a command for some time. Wiiile waiting for tlie General Assembly to give 
him another he used the lime profitably by attending some lectures on law and 



120 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

on philosophy, given by the faculty of the William and Mary College, at Williams- 
burg, Virginia. He had never been to college, but had been taught by his father, 
wlio was, he said, " an abler man than any of his sons." He had a fine mind 
and many of the natural gifts necessary to make a good lawyer, especially a tal- 
ent for wise judgment and justice. When disputes arose between the men of his 
regiment, he was alwaj^s called upon to settle them, for the disputers would agree 
on one point — that Marshall would be a fair judge between them. 

In tlie summer after the lectures he was admitted to the bar, and was able to 
get a license to practice. But he still felt that he owed a duty to his country as a 
soldier, and, returning to military life, he remained in the army until there were 
more officers than troops to command. Then he felt free to leave. 

After the surrender of Cornwallis in the autumn of 1781, law business began to 
revive in Yirginia, and Mr. Marshall soon found something to do. In a short time 
he became well known as a very i^romising young barrister, and after about a year 
of real business he stood among the leading members of the Virginia bar. His 
success was quick and sure, and was gained Avithout the long and patient toil 
usually the road to eminence. 

In the spring of 1782, he was called to his State Legislature, where his extra- 
ordinary abilities soon made a strong impression. He took an active part in the 
w^ork of reorganizing the condition of the State after the war; but this was mostly 
very quiet, though useful work, for Mr. Marshall had a modest nature that 
shunned making much of itself before the public. He came in contact with 
Patrick Henry, and many other great men of the day, winning distinction among 
them by the great qualities of his mind. But in appearance and manners he was 
far from commanding. His tall, thin figure was erect and manly, but often posed 
jn very awkward attitudes. The swarthy face, with its low forehead, black hair, 
and twinkling eyes, was kindly, but not handsome ; and the hard, dry voice spoke 
plain, forcible words, in which there was no bold oratory or polished grace. 
Sometimes his talk was even a little embarrassed. In 1788 he made some power- 
ful speeches in favor of Virginia adopting the Constitution. These were not ora- 
tions, jut talks of such great force of argument and reason that few could listen 
ano. (JO away with a view that differed from his. 

Hext to James Madison, Jolm Marshall did more than any one else to induce 
Virginia to adopt the Federal Constitution. He was a loyal member of the Fed- 
eral party, which was founded by Washington, Franklin, and John Adams — with 
their hearts set upon the Union of the States — and which was led by Alexander 
Hamilton, of ISTew York; and as that able lawyer an? statesman of the North 
supported John Jay's treaty with Great Britain before Congress, Marshall also 
made a grand speech in favor of it before the Virginia Assembly in 1794. The in- 



John Marshall. 121 

fluence of this spread far beyond the borders of the State. All America and 
Europe read it and were swayed by it, and when, in the next year, Mr. Mar- 
shall was sent with two others by the Government on a special errand to France, 
the people received the distinjj^ished statesman with honor and consideration. 

He now jiroved that he had great ability for public service. He was elected to 
several offices of trust, and declined many more than he filled. But at the spe- 
cial request of General Washington he ran for Congress and was elected in 1799. 
John Adams was then President, and one of Marshall's first and greatest speeches 
was defending the President for giving up Thomas Nash, also called Robbins, to 
the British, who claimed he had run away from justice. The speech not only car> 
ried its point with those who heard it or read it, but it settled forever the question 
whether such cases should be decided by the President or the courts. It has been 
said that it was an argument which deserves to be ranked among the most digni- 
fied displays of human intellect. 

After one year in Congress, he became Secretary of State, and again served his 
country as a talented dijilomat, especially in the famous letters of instruction to 
Eufus King, the American Minister to England, during the annoyances of " the 
peace that was like war." 

In the first month of the following year, on the 31st of January, 1801, Mr. 
Marshall was appointed to the office wherein he made his greatest fame, and did 
his noblest service to the nation. For thirty years, he remained the wise, able, 
and greatly respected Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. 
He interpreted the Constitution on just and liberal principles, and performed the 
heavy duties of his position with profound wisdom based upon a great natural 
sense of right, upon learning, moral courage, and a high-minded virtue that won 
respect and confidence from all who knew him. 

His rulings and arguments were of the greatest value to the courts of the nation, 
for the machinery of the new Government had not yet been adjusted to smooth- 
running order, and the Constitution was but little understood by the lawyers ot 
the country, Mr. Marshall's understanding of it was x^rofound and just, and al- 
though he had never before been a judge of any court, his appointment was a 
great national benefit, for which the wisdom of President John Adams will ever 
be remembered. Judge Story says, that if all his other judicial arguments were 
taken away from us, his clear judgments in exi>ounding the Constitutional law, 
would have been enough to make his name live forever. 

Some of the famous cases that came up before him and upon which the decision 
established the meaning of hitherto unopened i^assages of the law, were in the trial 
known as Peck against Fletcher, when an Act of the State of Georgia was de- 
clared void ; and in the celebrated case of McCulloch against the State of Maryland, 



122 One Hundred Famous Amcricank. 

wlien tlie Court decided that Congxess lias the power to charter a national bank 
with its branches in any of the States, and that such banks cannot be taxed by 
State authority. The trial of Aaron Burr for high treason was also made before 
him, and in that there were many points where the Chief Justice stood against 
the leaders of the day, but time has proved that he was i)erfectly fair, and 
that his decisions were " a sound, even-handed administration of the law." The 
wisest of lawyers reverenced him, but only those who understood his deep mind 
and his great judgments could fully appreciate him, and — as it has been said — the- 
just praise which comes from their lips seems to others extravagant talk. Most 
of what he wrote was in connection with the law, but he also made an excellent 
" Life of George Washington," in five volumes. 

John Marshall was born in Germantown (now Midland), Virginia, September 
24, 1755. He died in Philadelphia, July G, 1835. 

The great diplomatic affairs between England and the United States that 
needed such careful attention after the Revolution will always be associated in his- 
tory with the name of Williiiiu Piiikiiey, one of the leading American lawyers 
of his day. 

He was about ten years old when the Eevolution began and belonged to a 
stanch Eoyalist family of Maryland, but as he grew up to be a young man he be- 
came earnestly attached to the side of the patriots. He had very little education 
when he was a boy, but made up for it by studying hard when he grew older, so 
that after a time he not only made himself equal in knowledge and culture to his 
companions, but took first rank among many young men who had had far better 
opportunities. 

He was admitted to the Maryland bar when he was twenty-two years old, and 
began to practice in Hartford County. His learning and brilliant talents soon 
raised him into note and brought him into public life. At first he was elected to 
the State Council and then to the Legislature. In 179G, after one year among the 
law-makers, he was chosen by President Washington to act as one of the commis- 
sioners to England named in Jay's treaty. For eight years he stayed in London, 
faithfully performing all the many and laborious duties of his office with such 
great ability and success that he had only been home a year — during which he 
was Attorney-General of Maryland — when he was sent back. This time it was to 
treat about English sailors boarding our vessels and taking British-born seamen 
out of the American service, and other annoying x^ractices which even the wise 
diplomacy of Mr. Pinkney could not break up nor heal over with a lasting satis- 
faction. Treaties could not establish our rights, but several years after, the War 
of 1812 did. Still the aflairs were settled for the time, and Mr. Pinkney was re- 



William Finhney. 



123 



quested to stay on in Loudon as our regular Minister, which he did for about five 
years. Upon his return, in 1811, he was elected to the Maryland Senate, but soon 
resigned to accept the ofiice of Attorney-General of the United States, offered by 




^-^^-^5: 



^^^^^^J^X.'A- 



.^"r.^- 



William Pinkney. 



President Madison, whose administration he ardently supported. He commanded 
a troop of Maryland vohmteers in the war, which broke out in the next year, and 
fought the British bravely at Bladensburg, where he was very badly wounded. 
After the war he again became a foreign Minister, and for three or four years 



124 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

represented tlie United States at the Court of St. Petersburg. Upon his return, 
in 1819, he was at once sent to the United States Senate, and for the rest of. his 
life he labored intensely in that body and in the Supreme Court of the United 
States, until suddenly his health broke down, and death followed the next year. 

William Pinkney was born at Annapolis, Maryland, March 17, 1764. He 
died on the 25th of February, 1822. 

There was a feeling in England that began in the time of the Colonies — it has 
not yet entirely passed away — that nothing very great could come out of Amer- 
ica. Inventors, statesmen, orators, and soldiers were the first to be acknowl- 
edged ; but for fully half a century after some of these were accepted, Britons 
declared that no sound, well-taught scholars and professional men could be found 
throughout the whole land. However, in 1852, the Edinburgh Review, which 
always had a kind and encouraging word for America, said that at last the Eng- 
lish lawyers had come to learn that their American brethren were not a set of 
unlearned men, as they supposed, for Jauies Kent and Joseph Story could hold 
a place with any jurists of their age. 

Mr. Kent was a New York man, but he was educated at Yale College, and 
graduated with high honor in the summer of the year that Cornwallis surrendered 
at YorktowiL He had not begun with the expectation of being a lawyer, but he 
found and read Blackstone's famous Commentaries on English Law soon after he 
entered college, and this decided him to study for the bar. After graduating, he 
read law with the Attorney-General of New York State, and after four years' 
preparation, he became attorney in the New York Supreme Court, and began to 
practice in the town of Poughkeepsie. Meanwhile he kept up his studies, follow- 
ing a regular plan which was of great value to him. The day was divided into 
six ijortions. The first was two hours from dawn until eight o'clock, which he 
used for studying Latin. The two hours after that were given to Greek, and the 
remainder of the time before dinner, to law. In the afternoons he read French and 
English writings and the evening he passed with Mrs. Kent — then a bride — their 
friends, and in other recreations. Studious and hard-working as he was, he had 
also a great love of people and enjoyed entertainments very much. 

By such careful study and by the ability he showed iu his public and private 
business, he soon became well known as one of the most learned and successful 
lawyers of his time. Wishing also to take part in politics and i)ublic life, he 
moved to New York in 1793, and at the age of tlikty-three took his place among 
the leading jurists in the countrj^ He was a Federalist, and the friend of Alex- 
ander Hamilton, who was only six years his seuior. 

The public offices which Mr. Kent held were confined to his own State, where 



James Kent. 125 

he was Judge of the Supreme Court, Master in Chancery, and Eecorder of the 
City of Kew York. With Judge Radcliffe he revised the legal code of New York, 
in a way that was highly praised by the best jurists in the country; and in 1804 




James Kent. 



he was appointed Chief Justice of the State. All these duties he fulfilled with a 
profound wisdom and fine judgment, that raised him far above tlie men around 
him, and placed him upon a level with the greatest lawyers in the world. 

Meanwhile Columbia College was proud to have him for its Law Professor and 
then its Chancellor. 



126 One JIandred Famous Americans. 

He bo^an these leetures jilxuit as soon as he removed to New York, and coii- 
tinued them with some intermissious as htuii- as he lived. For nine years he tilled 
the high office of Cliancellor with so much di<;iiity and such perfect ability in every 
way that it was deeply re<»:retted when his sixtieth year closed, for, according to 
the Constitution, no Chancellor could hold his i^ositiou after he was sixty years old. 
When the time to retire came, he finished his labors by hearing and deciding every 
case that had been brought before him. But he was nt)t permitted to leave the 
college. He was still full of strength and ])ower, and if Columbia could no longer 
have him for Chancellor, it would welcome liim back to his old jn'ofessorship. So 
he returned to lecturing and taught class after class of young men the deep and 
broad meanings of tlie law. 

He revised his lectures, added new ones, and finally published them in four 
volumes of " Commentaries on ^Vmerican Law," from which the best judges in 
Europe and this c(mntry united in pronouncing Mr. Kent one of the greatest law- 
writers of tlie ag(\ " Tliey are," said a great judge, '' eloquent and attractive in 
their style, and full and accurate in their learning." Tlu^ fame of the great Chan- 
celh"; rests chiefly ui)on these essays, and, like tlie written works of his younger 
brother-jurist, Joseph Story, tiiey are a classic to the American bar, of inesti- 
mable value to every one who is under the ruling of the law, and a great and good 
gift to his profession. 

The private life of this honored man was as noble as his public virtues. He 
was industrious, temperate, fond of i)eople, and a good friend to aU who knew 
him. 

James Kent was born in what is now Putnam County, New York, July 31, 
1703. He died in New York City, December 12, 1817. 

Few jurists have lived in any age or any country who have a higher rank in 
the annals of law and i)atriotism than Joseph Storyo He was a New Englander 
by birth, a graduate of Harvard College in the class with the great clergyman, 
William E. Channing, a student of law under Samuel Sewall and Judge rutuam— 
both honored men in the JNlassachusetis bar— and became a practicing lawyer in 
Salem by the time he was twenty-two. He was something of a poet then, too, but 
soon gave up verse-writing and devoted himself most industriously to legal sci- 
ence, in which he became very wise and learned. After four years he entered 
public life as a Democrat member of the State Legislature, from which he went to 
Congress at Washington. His genius for debate Avas very marked, and his name 
was soon known throughout the country as the great speaker against the Em- 
bargo Act. This was an Act of Congress issued by President Jefferson in about 
the middle of his second term. It forbade the departure of any vessels from tlio 



Joseph Story. 



121 



United States for a foreign port, and was intended to put a stop to American 
commerce long enough to injure England's trade, if possible, and in that way 
bring her to reason about taking the men out of our sea service because they were 




Joseph Story. 

once British subjects. It followed closely upon the stopping of the United States 
frigate Ghcscqyealcc by the British frigate Leopard, when our vessel was forced 
to give up four sailors or enter into very unequal fight, for it was in no trim for 
battle. But, an act that cut off our own commerce was a very poor way of meet- 
ing the trouble, although Jefferson and some of his party were strongly in fjwor of 



128 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

it, while many other leading statesmen were opposed. Story, though a Democrat 
in Jefferson's party, was the leader of the opposition, and did a great deal toward 
having it repealed two years later. 

In 1811, when Madison had taken Jefferson's place as President, he called Mr. 
Story to become Chief Justice of the United States. He had left Congress in the 
meantime and was then Speaker in the Massachusetts House of Kepresentatives. 

This appointment was a peculiarly great honor to Mr. Story, for he was then 
only thirty-two years old, and no one as young as that had ever been appointed to 
so high judicial position either in America or England. But he was in every way 
able to fill his eminent place, and remained in it for thirty-four years. 

Meanwhile he had many other important positions and numerous duties calling 
into use his profound knowledge and ability in law. He helped to revise the Con- 
stitution of Massachusetts in 1820, and after he had been Justice almost twenty 
years he became Professor of Law at Harvard College. The lectures which he 
delivered in Cambridge before the Harvard students covered a very wide range of 
knowledge, and were so able and interesting that Dane Hall — though but newly 
built especially for the Law School — had to be enlarged to make room for all the 
students that gathered to hear them. They were upon the law of nature, the 
laws of nations, laws of the sea and of commerce, federal equity, and the con- 
stitutional law of the United States. Upon this he held similar doctrines to those 
of Chief Justice Marshall and the Federalists. He also published several books 
upon different departments of law, which were read on both sides of the Atlantic 
and were so able that their author became almost as famous in Europe as in 
America. 

A celebrated American jurist and writer says that the treatises written by 
Story are the most perfect of their kind that can be found in any language, and 
that for learning, industry, and talent he was the most extraordinary jurist of the 
age. An equally great Englishman said that Joseph Story's reputation and his 
authority as a commentator and expounder of law stands high wherever law is 
known or honored, and that as a man he was one of the most generous and single- 
hearted gentlemen that ever lived. 

His written works, which make up over sixty volumes, are more than have 
ever been left by any very eminent lawyer of any age or country ; and their value 
is not only in the vast amount of information they contain, but in a clear and 
beautiful style of language which is equal to that of some of the best prose writers 
of America. 

Joseph Story was born in Marblehead, Massachusetts, September 18, 1779. 
He died at Cambridge, Massachusetts, September 10, 1845. 



Eufiis Choatc. 129 

Riifus Clioate was a lawyer, an orator, and a statesman. Bat in his 
splendid ability as an advocate lie was beyond any other man that has ever lived 
in New England. It is even said by many i^eople that his eqnal has never been 
known in the whole conntry. 

He was always remarkable. When a boy, he was quicker, more vigorous, and 
more elastic than any of bis fellows, beside being a wonderful reader. He read 
everything in the village library, even its heaviest works, before he was ten years 
old ; and at sixteen he passed the examination for entering Dartmouth College. 

Although younger than his companions he was a leader and a favorite among 
them. There was scarcely a man in his class that had not a strong regard for 
tall, handsome, generous young Choate of Ipswich ; and although he soon worked 
himself above the ablest and the most studious of them, tliey all admired his brill- 
iant power without envying him. He had the company of large-minded, uoble 
men from the outset. 

From the Cambridge Law School he went into the office of Judge Cummins, 
of Salem, and then into that of the scholarly Mr. Wirt, who was at that time 
Attorney-General of the United States at Washington. He saw John Marshall 
on the bench of tbe Chief Justice, and he heard the eloquent William Pinkney in 
the Senate and in the Coiut. 

When he reached the age of twenty-five he began his own law practice in 
Massachusetts, being first settled at Danvers, then at Salem, and then in Boston, 
where he soon gained the highest position as a powerful advocate. 

He had a tall and commanding figure, a large and finely shaped head, and, 
although his severe labors turned his once clear and handsome J3mplexion to a 
peculiar yellowish color, his face still had uncommon power of expression. His 
varied and forcible gestures gave added weight to his exact arguments, brilliant 
sallies, and wonderfully j)ersuasive words, which were i)0ured out in a rich, musi- 
cal voice, that was so sympathetic that it could express almost every sort of 
feeling. 

It has been said that whether he addressed a jury of twelve men or a crowded 
audience, he seemed to bend their minds at his own will, for few men had a 
quicker insight into the character of the people he was talking to, or a better 
knowledge of the way to work upon the minds of others. His mind was large, 
keen, and vigorous; he thought straight at a subject, and saw it as it was with- 
out any set notions of his own in the way ; he had studied and read so much that 
it held vast stores of knowledge and culture upon many subjects, and it was so 
versatile that it could change from one thing to another with the greatest ease 
and tact. He could be cool and severe when necessary, or he could grow warm 
and vehement and sweep along the opinions of his audience with his own, by the 



( 



li>0 One Hundred Famous Americanf^. 

reasoiiiiblo, logical force of liis firc-tippi'd words. All tlio while hv would be able to 
kec^i) himself under ])erfeet control and be sensitive to every little influence about 
hiu!, so that he could wield the power of his eloquence to suit the temper of his 
hearers. 

His ])ublic life as a statesmmi was short. The year after he be^i'an to praetfce 
in Danvers lie was elected to llie Massachusetts Legislature, and after that to the 
yeuate. The energy and wisdom he showed in the debates held the attentiini of 
the reprCvseuta lives, and spread the fame of IMr. Choate throniihout the Bay State, 
so that he was soon sent to Conjiress. lie stayed in Washington duriui;- the 
whole of one term and part of a second, after Avhich he settled in I>ostou, refusing: 
to be re-elected, because he wished to use his time in his profession. 

liut after sev'en years, when Daniel Wc^bster acceptcHl the office of Secretary of J 
State and took liis seat at the head of President Harrison's ( ■a!)inet, IVIr. Ohoate 
consented to take his place in Mie Senate, liis (piick and active mind took an in- 
terest in all that was then movinij on the statue of American ])()litics, and most of 
i\w imi)ortant questions that came before the Senators were helped or hindered in 
their progress by the free and powerful speeches of the gentleman from Massachu- 
setts. 

lie had a higli and unsellish patriotism. Ho deeply loved the Union, and al- 
thongli, like many others, he felt that a great strain would soon be put upon our 
Federal (Jovernment, he had a tirm faith in tlie future greatness of the nation, ]>ro- 
vided that reason and law should rule over ]>assion. lie lio])ed tliat the dift'erences 
between the opi)osing ])arties nu'ght beovercome by argument and conciliations un- 
til the love of the Union should be so strong that nothing could come up between 
them that would temi)t them to destroy it. 

His addresses upon the McLeod case, the Fiscal Bank Bill, Oregon, the Tarift', 
and the Smithsonian Institution Avill ever remain i)rominent in the history of the 
Si'uate's ])roceediiigs and tix the name of their author among the greatest of our 
Senators, although he only starved one term. 

Deep as his interest was in the nation, and much as he gave his attention to the 
questions affect ing tiie country, and especially the welfare of the Union, he never 
again accepted any i)ubHc ollice, although he was often earnestly asked to do so. 
His law business was very large and his work was always thorough and far-reach- \ 
ing. lie was looked up to with respect, reverence, and love by the members of the 
])rofession, especially by those in Massachusetts, who knew him best ; but also by 
people lav and wide, who only knew him by n^putation. 

Mv. Choate had such gracious and winning manners and such an aftectionate 
teini>er that almost everybody was drawn to him; while his large and sound learn- 
ing, his great imagination, the attractiveness of his speech, which was like mag- 



Charles Sumner. I'M 

notism, and his fertile and prodij^ioiis resources, made liim, in business and in social 
life, the equal of the greatest people of his time. Much of Ids leisure was spent in 
reading-. He delighted in all departments of literature. 

It is believed that if he had felt it right for him to keep in public life, and if ho 
had lived until the trouble between the North and Soutli called forth the labors of 
every able ])atriot in the land, that his i)lace as an orator and statesman wor.ll 
have been with the greatest^ — perliaps the greatest^ — in AmericaTi history. 

liufus Choate was born October 1, 1790, in the Massachusetts town of Ipswich, 
which is now called Essex. He died at Halifax, ]Nova Scotia, July Li, 185S. 

While Judge Story was a teacher in the Harvard Law Scliool, a young man of 
twenty years, named Charli'S Sumner, (;ntere<l his class, as a. graduati; from 
the college. He was one of the finest young fellows the Jndge had ever met, a 
good student, with a thoughtful, kind nature, and not a single bad habit. Tiie 
good Judge admired him so nuich that they became intimate and life-long friends. 

Sumner's education had been gained chietly by his own efforts at hrst. His 
father was a lawyer of much learning, but he was not rich, and had wished to 
shape the studies of his oldest son in a practical way, so that he could begin early to 
earn his living and help the family. So Charles began to study the common 
branches taught in the Boston ]mblic school, and not Latin and Greek. Ibit he 
saved some cop])ers and bought, seccmd-hand, a. Latin grammar and a " liber 
priinus^^ for himself. He studied these books out of school, and' surprised his 
father one day by reciting to him from them. After that he was allowed to take 
the classical studies in his school. By the time he was eleven years old he entered 
the Latni School, where both the teachers and scholars admired him very nnich for 
his ability and his good disposition. Many of the boys could get above him in 
class; but none had so nuu;h general information as he. He was quick and \vide- 
awake and very fond of reading. History was his iavorite simly. He used to sit 
on a h)W seat, with maps sju'ead out before him, reading with deei) and earnest at- 
tention. When he grew to be the Honorable Charles Sumner and was doing a 
large share in the making of his country's history, he h;!<l much use for the stores 
his mind held of the lessons learned in earlier times ; which, if he had read in an 
easy, careless way, he might have forgotten long before. He used to write out, 
in his own words, what he read, and w(mld often copy many extracts from books 
that particularly pleased him. In his desiie for knowledge he not only read a 
great deal, but learned by talking with ohh'r people, especially those Avho had 
traveled or were unusually intelligent. The only one of the boys' sports that he 
entered into was swimming. 

During the iifth and last year at the Latin School, Mr. Sumner becum(^ 



132 One Hundred Famous Amerieans, 

Sheriff of Suffolk County, Massachusetts. This made him able to send his son to 
college instead of having to put him to work. 

So, in September, when Charles Sumner was sixteen years old, he became a 
member of the Freshman class at Harvard College. He studied well and ex- 
celled in history and all the language branches, but his progress was slow in 
mathematics, and so he neglected them. Still he was a good student and wasted 
no time. It is said that he would never take any pleasures that he could not also 
make profitable. 

In the Law School he was the same man — studious, refined, and gentlemanly. 
He was so industrious and studied so well, even beyond the requirements of the 
course, that after a little practice in a Boston law office, he was admitted to the 
bar by the time he was twenty-three years old. Not satisfied with what he could 
learn at home, three years later he went to Europe. Judge Story gave him let- 
ters to some famous lawyers abroad, introducing him " as a young lawyer, giving 
promise of the most eminent distinction in his profession, with truly extraordinary 
attainments, literary and judicial ; and a gentleman of the highest purity and 
propriety of character." 

After spending three years of earnest study in Europe, Mr. Sumner came back 
and took up his practice in Boston. He was then twenty-nine years old, and had 
name enough already to build up an excellent business. Before he went away he 
had been reporter of the United States Circuit Court, editor of the American 
Jurist, and author of three volumes of law-books, called " Sumner's Reports." 
From time to time he had also taken the place of Judge Story and Professor 
Greenleaf in giving lectures to the Harvard students. Now he became one of the 
regular teachers in the Law School. 

This was a time of miportant events in public affairs. Martin Yan Buren was 
President, and the country was becoming bitterly divided on the subject of slavery. 
Webster was in the Senate from which Hayne had retired but with Calhoun was 
keeping the flame of war or States' rights alive in South Carolina. Garrison and 
Wendell Phillips in New England, Gerrit Smith and the Tappan brothers in New 
York, and Salmon P. Chase in the West, were, with a host of others all through 
the Northern States, working hard to increase and strengthen the feelmg agamst 
slavery. It was almost impossible for an active, earnest man of jjublic spirit not 
to take sides for or against the cause. Sumner's feeling was with the Aboli- 
tionists, and before long he became well known in politics. On Fourth of July in 
1845, he made an oration in Boston on " The True Grandeur of Nations," which 
was not only listened to with great attention by hundreds of i^atriotic citizens of 
New England, but was published and read ftir and wide. Its able arguments for 
peace as true national welfare and its forcible and finished language even 



H 



Charles Sumner. 



133 



attracted a great deal of attention in Europe. He also spoke at other times 
against the annexing of Texas, because it would be spreading slavery ; and made 
many orations and addresses upon different subjects. At first he was a Whig, 
like Henry Clay and Webster, but he separated from that party when a new di- 




Charles Sumner. 

vision, called the Free Soilers, led by Salmon P. Chase, formed itself from both the 
Whigs and the Democrats who were not in favor of measures against slavery. 
In Massachusetts this party, uniting with the Democrats in 1851, sent Mr. Sumner 
to the Senate to take the place of Daniel Webster, who had become Secretary of 
State in President Fillmore's Cabinet. He held this office with honor and ability 
for twenty years. During the first year he opposed the Fugitive Slave Bill, which 






134 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

made it lawful for Uuited States officers to arrest runaway slaves found in tlie 
Northern States^ and was one of the leading- debaters on the famous Kansas- 
Nebraska Bill. 

It was after his splendid speech of the 19th and 20tli of May, in 185G, in favor 
of admitting Kansas into the Union and upon the growing power of slavery, that 
he was beaten and almost killed by Preston S. Brooks. Brooks was an ardent 
Southerner, representing South Carolina in Congress. He had read the speech, 
become angry at some things in it, and deliberately planned to disgrace the Sena- 
tor. He entered the chamber after a session, and, finding Mr. Sumner sitting alone 
and very busy at his desk, went np without any warning and struck him again and 
again upon the bare head with a heavy walking-stick. Mr. Sumner fell over, 
stunned, at the first blow, and Brooks kei)t up his angry strokes until two men 
rushed in from an ante-room and stopped him. The Senator was carried home al- 
most insensible, and was in danger of dying for several days. Even after he grew 
oetter, he had to go abroad for treatment, and it was a number of years before he 
could go back to public work. 

Near the close of Buchanan's term as President, he was able to return to Wash- 
ington, and take his old place as leader of the Senate ; before the new administra- 
tion began, he made a powerful speech that had a wide influence throughout the 
country against the laws and customs of slavery as they were in force throughout 
the South. It was published under the title of the " Barbarism of Slavery." 

Mr. Sumner worked to have Lincoln elected after Buchanan, and, although 
they did not agree on the slavery question, they were always warm friends. The 
President held Mr. Sumner as his favorite counselor, and so respected his judg- 
ment and wisdom that he was said to be like a Minister of State outside the Cabi- 
net. At the close of the war, the President said there was no one with whom he 
had advised more throughout his administration. 

His work during the conflict and the last ten years of his public life was 
chiefly upon aftairs between the United States and foreign countries. Meanwhile 
lie was also one of the most influential of all our statesmen in having the Southern 
States again established in the Union upon fair and impartial principles. He also 
secured the new department in the Government, called the Freednian's Bureau, 
which was to see after the rights and needs of the thousands of poor and ignorant 
negroes whom the war had freed from slavery. 

In April, 18G9, he made a great speech upon what is known as the Alabama 
Claims— that is, the claims of the United States upon Great Britain for the damages 
done by the Alabama and other Confederate privateers which they allowed to 
escape to sea when they were on friendly terms with the Union. 

Mr. Sumner and General Grant were opponents when the hero of the Civil War 



Charles O^ Conor. 135 

Came into politics at Wasliington. The Senator was not in favor of Grant's idea 
about making- the republic of San Domingo in Hayti a ])art of the United States ; 
he si)oke very powerfully against it in 1871, and carried a great deal of the popu- 
lar feeling with him. Ue worked against Grant's second term, and in favor of 
Horace Greeley instead. On the other hand, Grant removed Sumner's friend, 
John Lothrop Motley — the great historian — from the Court of St. James's in Lon- 
don, where he represented the United States, and at last forced the Senator him- 
self out of the chair of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, which he had held for 
ten years. 

Mr. Sumner was a man of great force and will. There was scarcely another 
man in the Senate, during all the twenty years that he was there, who had so 
strong an inlluence ui^on the American people. No hope of ftivor or popidarity 
had any weight with him against what seemed riglit, but he often took up the 
unpoi)ular side of a question and succeeded in laying it before the people so that 
he created a favorable feeling about it. This was very i^lainly the case in regard 
to the Confederates, Mason and Slidell, who were taken off the British vessel dur- 
ing the war ; in regard to the act of freeing the slaves which he urged Lincoln to 
make after the battle of Antietam, September 17, 18G2 ; and upon the San Do- 
mingo question. 

His last important act was to press his bill for Civil Rights, by which the law 
of justice was made the same for colored people as for white, in every State in the 
Union. 

Mr. Sumner was never quite free from the effects of the terrible assault in the 
Senate, and before the close of President Grant's second term, the old trouble re- 
turned with some illness in the chest, from which he never got well. 

Charles Sumner was born in Boston, January 6, 1811. He died in the city 
of Washington, March 11, 1871. 

Charles O'Coiior, of New York, was one of the few great lawyers who was 
not a politician. He shrank from accepting all public offices, excepting that of 
District Attorney, which lie held for about a year under President Pierce. He 
even refused the nomination for President when it was offered him. His name is 
upon the records of ftimous Americans only as a lawyer, where it stands among 
the greatest of the jiast or the ijresent. 

From early boyhood he was a scholar, working hard for his education, and be- 
ginning to study law when he was sixteen years of age. Four years later he was 
admitted to the New York bar, where, among a number of illustrious men, he 
soon worked his way to the top. In a few years he was connected with some 
of the most famous cases in the courts. He was poor then, but was so upright 



136 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

and honest, and so firm and trae to wliat lie tliougbt right, that he was as proud 
and uianly as a king", altliough extremely modest. He took the greatest care in 
his work and spared no i)aius in making it i)erfeet. After awhile he became rich 
aud famous, and everywhere the nobility of his character was as well known as 
his vast knowledge and legal power. 

lie was a very able business man. When he put his mind upon a piece of 
work, nothing could take him from it unless he thought best ; but when he was 
through, he laid away his papers, freed his mind from cares, aud took a good rest 
and " play spell." Added to this faculty of doing one thing at a time, he had a 
very tine memory aud kept a clear conscience. He never lacked the courage to 
face a very ]>o])ular wroug with a despised right, and although he often had many 
a hard struggle, he usually established the right in the end. He took the part of 
the slave Jack in a case that was of national interest in 1835, and was also counsel 
against the " ring" of New York City officials in 1873. 

Before many of the boys and girls that are now going to school were born, there 
were a number of men in New York who held offices which they used to their own 
advantage instead of for the public good, and stole vast amounts of money from 
the public treasury. 

Finally, these " ring frauds," as they were called, were discovered and brought 
into court. Mr. O'Conor took the side of the city against the officials. He left 
nothing undone to exi)ose them and helped a great deal to arouse the people 
against them, and to secure their punishment. 

As a man, Mr. O'Conor was so quiet about his deeds that most people were 
much surprised when he died, a few years ago, to find out how generous and 
kind-hearted he had been. His long life of successful practice had yielded him a 
good fortune, much of which he had shared with people less happy than himself. 
He had always taken care to conceal his good deeds as much as possible, but 
many of them came out after his death, and his will directed that a great deal of 
his large estates should be given to churches and charities. 

Charles O'Conor was born January 21, 1804, in New York City. He died 
at Nantucket, Massachusetts, on the 12th of May, 1884. 



William Maxwell Evarts was one of the greatest of American lawyers. 
His father, Jeremiah Evarts, was a prominent man and an able writer on the 
questions of his day ; but the son became nuieh more famous than the father. 
William M, Evarts received his college education at Yale. After that, he studied 
law in the Harvard Law School, and when he was twenty-three years old, he be- 
gan to practice in New York City, where he lived most of his busy life. Ten 



William Maxivell Evarts. 



137 



3'ears later he became Federal District Attorney, and from that time his place has 
been in the front rank of his profession. 

When President Johnson was impeached, Mr. Evarts was his principal lawyer, 
and, soon after that great question was settled, he was apjjointed Attorney-General 
of the United States. 

In about four years more he was again connected with a noted case. This was 
in the affair known as the Alabama Claims, which, though it came up during 




Charles O'Conor. 

the Civil War, was not adjusted until toward the close of Grant's first term as 
President. It was rather a serious matter, large damages being claimed of Great 
Britain which that Government did not feel inclined to pay. When, at last, a con- 
vention to make a settlement was agreed to, Mr. Evarts acted as the chief agent 
for the United States ; and his conduct in the whole matter was so full of wisdom 
and showed so much power as an attorney that our cause was won with credit to 
the republic and to hmiself. 



138 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



This occurred at Geneva, in Switzerland, in 1872, and a few years later lie was 
one of the counsel in the Presidential Election dispute. The contest was so close 
for the President that should follow General Grant that almost the whole country 
was in doubt whether Mr. Tilden or Mr. Hayes had received the greatest number 
of ballots. To decide the matter, a number of gentlemen formed what was called 
an Electoral Commission, and met to listen to the claims of both candidates. That 




William Maxwell Evarts. 

of Mr. Hayes was argued by Evarts, who outshone all the other counsel and 
seciu^ed a decision in favor of his client and the Kepublicau party. 

He was a member of the International Monetary Congress in Paris, in 1881, 
and was elected to tlio United States Senate from New York in 1885. After his 
retirement from the Senate he was confined closely to his home most of the time. 
He enjoyed a national reputation as an orator. His stj'le was classic in its 
correctness and his sentences were freighted with words which excited profound 
thought. 

Mr. Evarts was born in Boston, Massachusetts, February 6, 1818. He died in 
New York, February 28, 1901. 



EAELY MILITARY AND NAVAL COMMANDERS. 



' ' rpHROUGHOUT all Europe, the talents and great action of General 

-*- Georg-e Washiiig'toii bave won for him the truly sublime title of the 

liberator of America," wrote the French commander, Count D'Estaing, in the midst 




George Washington. 

of the Eevolutionary War. " He is," said Lord Brougham, of England, " the 
greatest man of our own or any age ; " and such praise from a son of Great Britain, 
Washington's vast enemy, and a French commander, his co-worker, must have 
been most fair and honest. 



140 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

To all Americans, the life of George Washincfton is the noblest, the jjraudest, 
and tlie most inlhiential in all our history, and ranks beside the most illustrious 
characters that have ever lived. 

His ancestors, who came from noble Enjulish fiimilies, emigrated to Virginia in 
the time of Cromwell ; and, in that old and lionored State, George Washington was 
born over forty years before the Declaration of Independence. His father died 
when he was twelve years old. A large property was left to the mother and five 
children, but Mrs. Washington was a wise and prudent woman, and trained her 
family to be industrious and economical, setting them tlie example herself. 

Tlie Southern schools at that time M'ere very poor, but George succeeded in gain- 
ing from one and another a fair knowledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, book- 
keeping, and land surveying. This last was at that time not an ordinary addi- 
tion to young man's education. He grew tall and well-proportioned, had great 
strengtli, and Avas fond of military and athletic exercises. He was high-principled 
and most careful about his accounts and his manners ; he even wrote out over a 
hundred maxims of civility and good behavior to be kept in mind and practiced. 

When he was sixteen years old, he undertook a survey of the wild country 
about his honu^ in Westmoreland County, camping out for months in the lonely 
forest, inhabited only by Indians and squatters, who were neitlier safe nor desira- 
ble companions. This work occupied him more than three years, and, beside the 
excellent pay he received for it, it was the means of making him thoroughly aC' 
quainted with the country which Braddock's army had to pass through on the 
march against Fort Duquesne, a few years later, in the French and Indian War. 
Tliis life was i)robably the best training that the young man could have had for 
t\\e hardships he soon had t<^) endure. 

At the beginning of the Seven Years' War, or the French and Indian War, in 
1754, when AVashington was nineteen years old, he was made an officer in the 
British Army, and at twenty-two he commanded a regiment against the French. 

It was in this conflict that he made his first success as a soldier, when he went 
on an errand for his commander from Williamsburg to the French settlements 
along the Ohio. His journey was five hundred and sixty miles long, and lay 
through a wild, wooded, and mountainous country, where there were neither roads 
to guide nor houses to shelter any travelers. It was one of the most courageous 
acts ever undertaken by any Anu'riean officer. He not only brought back ac- 
counts of the French that were of greatest importance to General Dinwiddle and 
the British Army, but he also kept a diary of his journey and the interviews with 
the French, which was sent to London and published, informing the people of 
England about the country and the power of the French in America. It showed 
what the French intended to do and how well prepared they were for carrying it 



George Washington. Ill 

out. As soon as lie received it, General Diiiwiddie sot about preparing to force the 
French to leave the around that the English claimed as theirs. Two companies 
were raised and put under Washington's command, with orders to " drive away, 
kill, and destroy, or seize as prisoners all persons, not the subjects of Oreat Britain, 
who should attempt to take i^ossession of the lands on the Ohio River, or any of 
its tributaries." 

This expedition failed in carrying out its i)urpose. The forces were far too 
few and too poor to succeed. They were not half paid, and in one of his reports 
W:ishington says : " The chief part are almost naked, and scarcely a man has 
either shoes, stockings, or a hat. There is not a man that has a blanket to secure 
him from cold and wet." Yet, in spite of all, they did some good fighting, 
and Colonel Washington gained a good deal of honor for his wise actions and 
bravery. But not with Dinwiddie, who ])la(HMl other colonels over him, when 
more forces were raised, and treated him so disrespectfully that Washington re- 
signed. But he was soon invited to become an aid to General Braddock, who 
was, about this time, appointed by the King to take charge of all the forces then 
in the field. 

When they set out toward Fort Duquesne with three thousand men — British 
regulars and Colonial troops — General Braddock expected to find the French and 
Indians drawn up in regular lines in an open field, and he thought that ht^ would 
only need to make a bold attack and they would all run. Washington told him that 
Indians fought by hiding behind trees and lying in wait in unexpected places, and 
he cautioned the English general to send out scouts in advance of the troops. But 
Bradihwk would not listen ; he knew more about fighting than this young Colo- 
nial captain could tell him — until the Indians did fall upon his ranks unexpectedly, 
just as Washington had foretold, sending bullets thick and fast into them, while the 
amazed Britishers saw nothing but trees at which to return fire. Many of the offi- 
cers fell; Braddock himself was wounded, and Wasliington had to take command, 
lie knew how to meet the foe with their own weapons ; he scattered his men among 
the trees ; he rode hero and there giving orders ; two horses were shot from under 
him, and four bullets ])assed tlmmgh his coat, but he was not harmed. He 
checked the advance of the French and Indians, but not until nearly half of the 
English troops had been killed. 

This affair showed the British Government what Washington could do, and 
when a new force was raised, ho was idaced in command of two thousand men. 
lie had little part in the jealousy and mean actions between the British and the 
Colonial officers that so delayed success in driving out the French, and* felt so 
deeply repulsed by the condition of the army that he resigned after the cai)turc of 
Fort Duquesne in November, 1758. 



142 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

The next year he maiTiod a beautiful and accomplished widow named Mrs. 
Martha Custis, wliom, with her two cliildreu, he took to his family mansion, 
Mount Vernon. He took no part in military life now; he had large estates, 
and a great fortune, part of which had belonged to his wife when she married him. 

Thus, at twenty-seven, AVashiugton was a country gentleman, proprietor of a 
plantation upon wliich wheat and tobacco were raised and Msheries and brick-yards 
carried on. He liad at that tim(^ about a hundred and twenty-iive slaves. But he 
was a good master, and directed in his will that all his slaves should have their 
freedom so that tlie people of the two estates, who had intermarried, should not be 
separated. About the time of his marriage, Washington also became a member 
of the Virginia House of Burgesses, where he seldom took any active part. When 
he spoke at all, it was briefly, but Patrick Henry said that he was, " for solid in- 
formation and sound Judgment, unquestionably the greatest man in the Assem- 
bly." He took no part in forming the nation. He was opposed to the idea of in- 
dei)endence, and in favor of a close union of the Colonies with the British Govern- 
ment. But when the crisis came, he was ready to take np his arms for America's 
rights. 

In June, 1775, two months after the battle of Lexington, he was chosen by the 
Continental Congress, of which he was a member, to take command of the newly 
formed army of the Colonies. His first undertaking was laying siege to Boston. 
The soldiers were poorly fitted out for their work, and not very well pleased at the 
way they were treated by Congress and the country. But Washington kept them 
at work, and in eight months the British Army marched out of Boston and left it 
to the Colonial troops. 

The i>eople were greatly encouraged by this first victory, but soon disheart- 
ened again by a terrible defeat at Long Island. Five thousand poorly furnished, un- 
trained men, with no cavalry, were no match for fifteen thousand veterans, well pro- 
vided with artillery. But it was only a defeat, not utter destruction, as it might 
have been if AVashington had not taken advantage of a dense fog which came up 
the next day, and so skillfully moved his army across the East River to New 
York that, although the two armies were so near together that their sentiies 
could hear each other speak, the British never suspected what the Americans 
were doing until after AVashington had left the ferry with the last boat-load of his 
men. Even this was not safe, so the army was moved to the rocky heights above 
the island, further away from danger. But while they escaped capture, they had 
to give up New York to the British, and retire still further through New Jersey 
to the west bank of the Delaware. Meanwhile Howe gave the i)atriots another 
great loss by taking Fort Washington, with its garrison of three thousand men 
and all its stores. 



George Washington. 143 

But Wnsbiugton's turn for success soon followed. After crossini? the Dela- 
ware in open boats, one bleak December nigiit, he captured the town of Trenton, 
in New Jersey, and took nearly a thousand prisoners, and, marching on to Prince- 
ton, gained another victory, eight days later. These successes cheered soldiers, 
othcers, and Congress, and roused General Howe and his British soldiers from the 
lazy assurance they felt over the events of the summer. 

During the year 1777, but two more battles were fought. The first was at 
Brandy wine Creek, where the brave young French oflQcer, Lafayette, was wounded. 
There was a loss of nine hundred men to the Americans, but they would not give 
up till they had another trial, which resulted in a second defeat at Germantown, 
near Philadelphia. 

At this time Washington had to contend with other enemies than those in the 
field. General Charles Lee, a Welshman by birth, who stood next to him in the 
army, was all the time trying to intiuence Congress against him. Instead of 
helping and obeying Washington, he dallied and thwarted his plans, hoping to 
make Congress so dissatisfied with the way the army was managed that it would 
remove the commander and give the office to him. 

This was to Washington the gloomiest period of the whole war. The country 
heard of nothing but losses and retreats, or battles that ended in neither victory 
nor defeat. Still Congress kept him at the head of the army, and while his forces 
were too poor and distressed to do battle, he skillfully managed to keep the army 
together. He comi)elled all the inhabitants of New Jersey either to join the 
United States Government or to go for protection within the British lines. He 
would not have any people around who pretended to be neither friend nor foe, but 
who would carry news of all his proceedings to the British. 

Three days after the sorry battle of Germantown, a second battle was fought 
at Stillwater, in New York State, and the good news spread far and wide that 
General Gates had won a victory over General Burgoyue of the British forces. 
A cou]>le of weeks later six thousand men were surrendered to the Americans 
at Saratoga. These victories inspired the people, put new courage in the hearts 
of the poor fellows in Washington's army, which lay in New Jersey } and decided 
the French Government to openly ally itself with the United States. 

Still troo])S and supplies were withheld from the Commander-in-Chief. Alex- 
ander Hamilton was sent to Gates for part of his army, and appeals were made 
to Congress; but a bitter winter was passed at Valley Forge before the help 
arrived. 

Mrs. Washington spent the winter at the camp and made all the garments she 
could for the men ; but they were in most wretched condition. They had not 
clothes enough to cover them, to say nothing of keeping them warm ; many had 



144 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

no slices, and there was hardly food enough to keep them from starving. Wash- 
ington wrote again and again, begging Congress to do something to relieve the 
men who had patiently endured so much, who had fought when half-starved, half- 
naked, and ready to drop with fatigue, and whose shoeless feet had marked the 
ice and snow with blood as they marched. But secret enemies kept sending in 
complaints of him to Congress, not in open charges, but by underhanded and un- 
signed letters, for Lee was not the only general who coveted the honorable post of 
Commander-in-Chief. These did not influence Congress far enough to remove 
him, but they delayed it in aiding him when his distress was so great that neglect 
was almost wicked. 

If Washington had been serving himself or Congress, or had had any less noble 
purpose than pure patriotism, he would never have patiently made the best of this 
winter and rallied his men as soon as General Sir Henry Clinton — who now com- 
manded the British in place of Howe— left Philadelphia, following him as he 
moved his forces through New Jersey, and giving battle to him at Monmouth. It 
was a gain for neither side, but it was a masterly piece of generalship, and con- 
vinced Congress that Washington was the right man for his i^lace. It is said 
that then — for the only time in his life — he actually swore when he found that Lee 
had begun a retreat instead of making a vigorous attack as he had been ordered. 
The angered general rose in his stirrups and charged upon the cowardly Welsh- 
man such a volley of just rebuke that he turned around and led into the fight. 
Washington himself led charge after charge. One horse sank beneath him and 
died on the spot from fatigue ; a shot from the British artillery once plowed up 
the ground a few jDaces in front of him.; but no harm came to him. Some of his 
men repeated the words of the old Indian, who, alter watching him during Brad- 
dock's defeat in the French and Indian war, breathed out, " The Great Spirit pro- 
tects him ; he cannot die in battle." 

Congress was so well pleased with this engagement that it passed a vote of 
thanks to General Washington for his bravery and ability ; and Count D'Estaing, 
the commander of the newly arrived fleet from France, wrote, " Accept, sir, the 
homage which every man, especially every military man, owes you." 

Toward the close of the fall Washington encamped his forces in a good place 
near Peekskill, where he coidd keep watch of the British and head them off 
whichever way they should try to go. After this, little happened, until he left 
these winter quarters to prevent the British from getting up the Hudson. They 
had already started, but were forced to stop at Stony Point, where Washington 
sent General Wayne — brave, daring " Mad Anthony " — to secure them. This 
charge was so well made that the Englishmen were taken without fii-ing a shot. 
The forces surrendered upon an advance which was made with bayonets. 



Oeoi^ge Washington. 145 

During- the next year about all the fig-hting- was done in the South. A French 
fleet of six thousand soldiers arrived at Newport, and Washing-ton went there to 
plan with them for future action, leaving: Benedict Arnold in charg-e of the fortress 
at West Point. While he was g-one Arnold's plot to betray the place to the British 
came very near being- carried out. 

Another winter of distress followed at Morristown. The soldiers, driven to 
madness by their long'-continued privations, broke out in open mutiny and started 
for Philadelphia to demand of Cong-ress a settlement of their wrong-s. It was 
necessary to turn the loyal soldiers upon their mutinous comrades before order 
could be restored. Washing-ton persuaded them to state their g-rievances in a 
petition to Cong-rees and bound himself to make new efforts to see that some- 
thing- was done for them. His personal influence and a knowledg-e of his sympathy 
had much to do in bringing- back g-ood order. 

The next summer all of the forces, French, American, and British, beg-an to 
g-ather in the South, where Nathaniel Greene had been fig-hting- for nearly a year, 
and where Lafayette had been sent in January. Washing-ton set out to join them in 
Aug-ust, taking- care that Clinton at New York should not know of his course 
until he was well on the way. So, the united French and American forces sliut 
Cornwallis up in Yorktown and compelled him to surrender before Clinton could 
reach him. 

This was the end of the great war, and among- all the brave men who g-ave 
their lives to its cause, Washing-ton was the chief hero. By his bravery, wisdom, 
fortitude, and manliness in every particular, g-reat and small, he had led the weak 
and wavering- soldiers, and directed their officers in the paths that led to victory. 
All the civilized world united in praising- his wisdom, his courag-e, and all his 
g-reat qualities as a military commander ; but at home, while people loved him 
deeply for these virtues, he was still more esteemed for his justice, kindness, and 
g-enerosity . He had no enemy whom he did not treat as a man ; no private was too 
humble for kindness and courtesy ; a sick prisoner was as carefully considered as his 
own aids ; and no hope of dashing- g-lory could ever make him forg-et that his 
ranlvs were made up of his fellow-men. 

Now another test came ; but the soldier could also be a statesman. First in 
war, he was also first in peace. He became the leader in establishing- the new 
nation, and fostered the peace of the country as devotedly as he had g-uided its war- 
fare. He took deep and active interest in the g-overnment by Cong-ress, presiding- 
over the meeting-s of the new convention which arrang-ed a g-overnment more 
suited to the new conditions of the country than the old form, and finally adopted 
the Federal Constitution ; and when it came time to choose some one who should 
stand at the head of the new republic, Washing-ton was the choice of the people. 



146 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

It was the most important and eventful period of any time of jwace in our history, 
but throug'hout all of two terms he was the faithful, wise, and skillful President. 
His Cabinet was made up of the best men in the country, and in all the work of 
planning- out and forming- a new government, of settling- the polic^^ of the republic 
in matters of both home and foreign affairs, and meeting all the unexpected diffi- 
culties which kept constantly rising- both for the present and the future, Wash- 
ington was alwaj^s equal to his post, prudent, active, careful, just, and never 
losing- sight of the one great bond of the nation, federal union. After an adminis- 
tration of eig-ht years, in w^hicli the nation had become quite firmly established 
and prosperous, he refused another term, and went to live quietly at the family 
seat of Mount Vernon. 

He was as upright and noble in appearance as in mind. He was six feet, two 
inches tall, with brown liair, blue eyes, a large head, and strong arms. He was a 
bold and g-raceful rider and hunter, and whether at home or in the field, he was 
always careful of his personal appearance. His manners were g-entle and g-racious, 
though dig-nified, and at times cold and reserved. His house at Washington was 
like a court, where the customs were as formal and stately as those of a prince's 
palace, and the President's wife was spoken of as " Lady " Washington. 

Georg-e Washing-ton was born in Westmoreland County, Virg-inia, on the 23d 
of February, 1733. He died at Mount Vernon, Virginia, December 14, 1799. 

General Washing'ton said that if any accident should befall him so that he would 
be unable to lead the American army, the one g-eneral whom he would name to 
take his plac^j would be NatliaiiJ'el Greene. 

When the news of the battle of Lexington reached WarAvick County, Rhode Is- 
land, he was a member of the Kentish Guards of Coventry, and Avith them he 
started at once for Boston ; and when the Tory Governor ordered them back 
Greene was one of the four who, refusing- to obey, mounted the first horses they 
could find and g-alloped on to Boston. 

At this time he was the foremost man in Coventry, and g-eneral in his State 
militia. He had been expelled from the Society of Friends, or Quakers, into 
which he had been born, because he not only loved military life, but was also de- 
termined to light against the armies of Great Britain. 

He had begun life by Avorking- on his father's farm and at his iron forg-e, and 
after working- long over-hours to earn money to buy books, he had sat up late at 
night to study them, until he had succeeded in getting- a prett3'^ good education. 
His knowledg-e and g-ood sense g-ained for him the respect of all the leading- men in 
and about his tow^n, and he had been a member of the Rhode Island Colonial As- 
sembly for five years before the battle of Lexington was foug-ht and the Kentish 



Nathaniel Greene. 



147 



Guards started for the seat of war. The Assembly of Rhode Island soon after 
raised a force of sixteen hundred men, and Greene was by common consent ap- 
pointed maior-general. This was in May, 1T75, and from that tnne mitil the army 
^r disbanded at the close of the war m 1783, he never left the service even on a 

"^''■'Thrgood'effect^ of hard study in his earlier days now began to be seen. He 







'■ liV '( ''i/r/ 






>-^ 



Nathan/el Greene. 

soon mastered military tactics, and drilled his raw troops so thomughly that two 
months later, when Washington took command of the Colonial^ forces, he pro- 
nounced Greene's troops " the best disciphned in the whole army. 

Washington and Greene became fast friends from their first meetmg. The 
great commander saw at once that he could place confidence in this young Rhode 

Islander, and he did, , , i i +1 

But during the next battle-that of Long Island-Greene lay helpless with an 




148 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

attack of fever, within sound of the firing but scarcely able to raise his head from 
the pillow. This was a greater trial than any he ever had on the field. He had 
made himself thoroug'hly familiar with all the points along- the shore. He knew 
just where the most dangerous places were, just where the strong-est blows could 
be struck better than any one else, and now he must lie still and wait for the re- 
sult. He actually cried when told of the Americans' defeat and the g-reat havoc 
made in his own favorite regiment. Just as soon as he dared leave his bed, he 
mounted his horse and again took his command. 

When Washington withdrew to White Plains Ik; sent Greene to watch Staten 
Island, and a little later he was put in charge of the troops in Ncav Jersey. When 
the brilliant dash at Trenton was made Greene was Washington's best man, and 
his assistance at Princeton had much to do with that victory. 

While the army was encamped at Morristown, New Jersey, during the second 
winter of the war, Greene was sent by Washington to Congress to set before it 
the condition of the army and the need of more troops, what dangers it would 
have to meet, and what was needed to prepare for them. Only a part of the 
needed assistance was gained, and the spring opened with poor prospects for the 
patriots. 

In the""battle of Brandywine, the first in the campaign of 1777, Greene distin- 
guished himself during the retreat of the defeated Americans by his coolness and 
firmness in holding the British back from their hot pursuit until the disordered 
ranks could reform. Finding a favorable spot in a narrow pass through a thicket, 
he made a stand and held the pass until nightfall. 

It is said that if his advice had been taken, both the defeat at Brand,^^vine 
and that at Germantown, immediately after, might have been avoided. He was 
asked to select places for the army each time, and chose strong ones where they 
could have held their ground against attack, but his advice was overi-uled by the 
other generals, who were anxious to fight in the open field, and defeat was the 
result. 

When the army went into camp at Valley Forge, during the third winter of 
the war, Greene was made quartermaster-general. 

The battle of Monmouth was their first engagement after breaking camp. It 
was here that Lee, disobeying Washington's order, began the retreat, which but 
for Greene would have been carried out with great loss to the Americans. Greene 
promptly came up with his force, and, seeing that Lee's action prevented him from 
carrjdng out his own orders, he resolved to act quickly, without direction, and 
take a good stand where he could stop the course of the enemy, which was moving 
upon Washington's troops in great force. In this he drew a large part of them 
away from their attack on Washington toward himself, but his men mert their 



Nathaniel Greene. 149 

furious charge with the same steady nerves and cool determination showed by 
their commander. They held their ground and poured volley after volley into the 
British ranks until they were g-lad to draw back. That night the Americans slept 
upon the ground with their arms at their sides as they had fought; the next 
morning, when the daylight appeared, the British were nowhere to be seen. 

Greene's next active service was at Newport, where he was sent to assist Sul- 
livan in an attack upon the British. Here he again held his ground against 
the British regulars until they were forced to retire. Then the American force 
marched to a place of safety before the British were ready to make another attack. 
This, too, was under very unfavorable circumstances, for there had been a disa- 
greement between General Sullivan and the French commander, D'Estaing, and 
the Frenchman had left the Americans in such danger that they were very 
angry. Sullivan prepared a sharp letter to send to Congress, and Washington 
ordered Greene to go to Congress and try to make peace between Sullivan and 
D'Estai-ng. Greene arrived on the same morning that Sullivan's letter came. In the 
gallery sat D'Estaing, the French Minister, and some other distinguished French- 
men. As the Clerk was opening the letter, Greene, who sat near the President, 
hastily wrote to him on a slip of paper, " Don't let that letter be read until you 
have looked it over. ' ' The President whispered to the Clerk not to read it, other 
business came up, and the offensive letter was not read. If it had been, probably 
the French would have refused at once to help the Americans any more. A few 
words in time had saved to the nation its greatest ally, and Greene returned to 
camp. 

During the months that followed, very little fighting was done by any of the 
forces, and the idle hands found mischief, as they always do. Erivy and jealousy 
broke out among the officers. Greene, as well as Washington, had some very 
active enemies. He was accused of using his office of quartermaster for his own 
profit. Congress took the matter up, and Greene was asked to give an account of 
all his property. He easily proved that these statements were false, but he deeply 
resented them and soon resigned the office of quartermaster. In less than six 
months his slanderers had reason to wish they had kept still and let his manage- 
ment alone. 

In the early part of 1780 Washington left Greene to guard Springfield, New 
Jersey, while he moved north to protect West Point, which the British seemed to 
be threatening. As soon as Washington was well on his way the British sud- 
denly turned and marched toward Springfield five thousand strong. Greene had 
but two brigades and a small body of militia — thirteen hundred in all. But he 
placed these in such good position, and roused them to such a firm spirit of resist- 
ance, that the British were obliged to return to Elizabethtown. 



150 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Then there came another period of rest. Washmg-ton went to Hartford to con- 
suit with the French generals and left Greene to take charge of the army a«d to 
keep him informed of all that went on. With a way of learning- about everything- 
that went on at the British headquarters at New York, Greene soon discovered 
that something- was g-oing- to happen. He wrote to Washington about it, but said 
that the success of the plan seemed to depend on keeping it a secret. Two daj^s 
later the secret was out. It was Benedict Arnold's plot to let the British into 
West Point. Andre was captured ; Greene presided over the court that tried 
him and signed the death-warrant, although he would have gladly made the sen- 
tence lighter if he had thought it right. 

He was then put in charge of West Point. Soon after this the seat of war was 
changed to the South, and there Greene was sent before long to take the place of 
Gates, the victor of Saratoga, after his sorry defeat at Camden in the midsummer 
of 1780. 

Greene found his command in a miserable condition. The term of most of the 
men had expired, so there was really no army and no supplies, and Congress was 
out of money with which to provide any of these. But gradually a small force, 
mostly raw militia, was collected, and with these Greene did some of the most brill- 
iant fighting of the war. He gained no great victories — his forces were too weak 
for that — but by watchfulness and activity he turned even his defeats to good ac- 
count ; he took advantage of every mistake ; he hung over all the enemy's move- 
ments, ready to strike an unexpected blow ; he chased them here and there, and at 
last compelled them to leave the whole country— Georgia and the Carolinas — and 
to shut themselves up in Charleston. The battle of Eutaw Springs, from which the 
retreat into Charleston was made, was one of the severest battles of the Avhole war. 
It was hard to say which side gained the victory ; the British claimed it, but the^^ 
were glad to leave the field as soon as i^ossible after it was over. They retreated 
to Charleston, and at last their power in the South was broken. Thus, " by sheer 
caution, activity, and perseverance, and without winning a single victory, Greene 
had almost cleared the South of the enemy." 

The surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, which occurred about two months 
after this, brought an end to the war in the Nortli, but there was still trouble in 
the South. For more than a year longer Greene was obliged to be constantly on 
the watch for sallies from the British garrisons ; his own army was in the greatest 
distress much of the time ; they had no food and were forbidden b^^ the Legislature 
of South Carolina to supply themselves by foraging ; they had hardlj^ rags enough 
to cover them ; sickness broke out and finally mutiny. A second act of treason 
was found out just in time to save the loydl soldiers from a combined attack by 
the British and the rebellmg Americans. 



John Paul Jones. 151 

Finally, the Southern Army saw the last of the English Army depart from 
Charleston. It entered the city amidst great rejoicing-, while the praises of Gen- 
eral Greene resounded throug-h the country and even across the Atlantic. As a 
soldier and a man, he is ranked above every other officer in the Revolution, ex- 
cepting- the great Commander-in-Chief. But there was still another long delay be- 
fore the needy army was disbanded and Greene was free to return to his home. 
Even then it was not to settle down to the comfort that he had justly earned. 

When the Legislatures of Georgia and the Carolinas first met, after the battle 
of Eutaw Springs had made it safe for them to do so, they showed how much they 
valued General Greene's services by voting him large sums of mone^^ and lands. 
These he had pledged to secure food and clothing for his army, but the greater 
part was swept away by the false-dealing of one in whom he had trusted. With the 
little that was left he settled with his family in Georgia in the spring of 1785. The 
next year, while walking out in the rice-field, he had a sun-stroke which caused his 
death within a week. 

Nathan)4l Greene was born in Warwick, Rhode Island, Maj^ 27, 1742. He died 
on his estates near Savannah, Georgia, June 19, 1786. 

The greatest naval hero of the Revolution was John Paul Jones, a Scotch- 
man, who first came to America when he was an apprentice-boy, on an errand for 
his master, a great English tobacco merchant. He was only John Paul then, for 
the Jones was added to his name in later years. 

At the age of twelve he had been sent to Whitehaven, in England, which is 
just across the Solway Firth or bay from his native place. There he was appren- 
ticed to a merchant who had a large trade with America. He was a bright and 
studious boy, and one that could be trusted, so the next year, when the merchant 
sent a ship to Virginia for a cargo of tobacco, John Paul went along-, for he had a 
brother in that State. He was much pleased with the new country, but still more 
so with his voyage. Life at sea seemed so delightf id to him that he began to study 
navigation at once ; and when, soon after his return to England, his master's 
business failed, he was glad to be released from his apprenticeship so that he cou-ki 
become a sailor. His studies had fitted him to take a good place in the merchant 
service, and he soon had an offer to ship in the slave trade, which was one of the 
most flourishing branches of English commerce in the last half of the last century. 
So arrangements were made, and the day came when the King George set sail 
from Whitehaven with John Paul for third mate. The ship went to Afi-ica and 
returned, and when Paul next went to sea — which was very soon — it was as chief 
mate of the Two Friends. He was now nineteen years old, and carried his cargo 
of human beings safely to the island of Jamaica, where the vessel belonged. But 



152 One JInndrcd Famoun Americans. 

as soon as liis duty was fulllllcHl ho i;a\'o up tlie sliip. He declared lie would never 
{\ix:\\u liavo anvMiiiii;- to do with llu' slave trade, and took passai^v for lioine in the 
iii'st. shi[> bound for (^r»^at l^iitain. Yelhnv level" broke ouldui-iiii;- tlie voya^-e. 
Capl^iin. male, and all tlit> eliief oflieei's diiHl, leavini;- the bii^- in the niuldle of 
the Atlanlie \villu>idi a man of the eivw able to i;iiide its eonrse. The young- pas- 
senger took eonnnand, and the men soon saw that, though he was but twenty 
years of age, he was a thorough sailor, and all obeyed and respected him as their 
r(\gular c\\\c\'. He l)rought the vessel safely to her port, whieh was near his own 
hoin(>, and theeoini)any I'ewardtnl him by making him lier captain. 

During his tii'st regular voyage in this brig, a false report was raised that lie 
killed theearp(Mder. wlunn he had had to Hog for neglecting his duty, but who died 
of a fevt»r some time after huuling at the West Indies. This was so much talked 
about, and so great a time uuule over Captain Paul's "cruelties," that he left 
8eotland for good in 1771. After serving in England's West India trade for 
awhile, he came to Virginia, where his brother had left him heir to a goodly estate. 
The innudry which had distrusted and slandered him he woidd claim no loiig:er. 
Hereafter he would bean American. He would not even bear the old name, but 
would be John Paid Jones in future. 

In a cou[)le of years the Revolutionaiy War broke out. and the first of the 
first lieutenants ap|)t>inted in the new navy was John l\iul Jones, lie was placed 
on boartl of the fiigate AlfraL the first vessel, it is said, over which the American 
flag ever thKited. It was Lieutenant. Jones himself who first hoisted the yellow 
sheet when the ctnnniodore came to the tleet, and displayed to Commander 
Ih^pkiiis the coiletl rattlesnake and the motto " Dont tread on me/' 

After his tirst voyage, in which he made the att;u'k on Providence Island, 
Jones was promoted to commander of the Pron'dence. In this, during a cruise 
of six weeks, he captured sixteen prizes. He was then made one of the regular 
captains in the young navy of the United States, and ordered to start out on 
beard llu> lut)i(jer for a two ov three months' cruise against the craft of England. 
At that time ouv whole navy numbered only a few vessels, while England had 
ov(M- a Ihousanil. It needcil a great deal of skill to keep out of the way of their 
heavy men-of-war, and still unue to watch them and make unexpected attacks 
on them at just the right nioment.. Hut Jones was as keen and alert as an enemy 
as he was able as a seaman. He took many English merchant ami trading ves- 
sels, and even drme siMue fishing-vessels away from their grounds at Cape 
Prelon. 

After this the English concluded that the Banger needed looking aft^^r, so 
they tilted out and sent oil" the Drake, a larger vessel than Jones's, with almost 
twice as nianv guns. Her orders were to capture the Ixanger. The two vessels 



John Paul Jones. 



153 



met just off the soutlioa stern coast of Scotland, in April of 1778, and after an 
hour of quick, sharp, and spirited fii^'htin^-, tlie Drake, instt^ad of the Ranger, 
was the cai)tureil craft. Cai)tain Jones carried his prize to the coast of France 
and sent tlie Raiujer home to America. 

Tlie news of this victory was a surprise to every one and a very unpleasant 
one to England. They had before felt nothing- but disdain for the weak little 




John Paul Jones. 

navy of the " American Colonies," but now they learned that it was not as harm- 
less as it was young- and small. 

For five months after the capture of the Drake, Jones was kept waiting- in 
France for a vessel. While people were talking over and praising- his naval skill 
he was without money or employment in a foreign country. Congress was too 
poor to tit out another vessel, or even to send him the money he needed to keep 
himself and crew from want. About this time Benjamin Franklin succeeded in 
getting the French Government to openly become our ally, and Jones looked to 
them for a vessel and supplies. 

While he was watching and waiting for a reply to some of the nuuKM-ous let- 
ters he had written to the court, he one day came across a copy of "■ Poor Richard's 
Almanac," in whicii lie found one of Franklin's wise sayings that applied ex- 



154 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

actly to his own case. It was, " If you want your business well done, go and 
do it yourself." Jones resolved to act on this stray bit of advice, and went at 
once to the king. His honor and fame from the Banger's exploits were enougn 
to admit him to the court, where he could command respect and attention by his 
presence as well as his renown. He had made himself well educated and culti- 
vated by adding industry to his genius, and although his figure was neither large, 
robust, nor more than medium tall, it was active and vigorous. His weather- 
beaten face had keen black eyes that lightened a certain melancholy grace which 
softened his compact and determined-looking features. He soon interested the 
king in his desire to raise a fleet and again meet America's enemies on the sea. 
Arrangements that had already been begun were now soon completed, and a 
squadron of French and American vessels was placed under the command of 
Jones, who named the old Indiaman, which fell to his lot, the Bon Homme 
Bichard. That meant the Good Man Richard, in English, and was in honor of 
Benjamin Franldin, the almanac-maker and distinguished American Minister to 
France. 

When at last the squadron was ready, the Bon Homme Bichard and her four 
companion vessels set sail from France in the middle of August, 1779, the fourth 
year of the war. It was a poor fleet, manned with a motley crew of more foreign- 
ers than Americans and some under-ofificers that were not fit for their posts. But 
it seemed as if no disadvantages could cause Commander Jones to fail. After a 
month's cruising he had captured and destroyed twenty-six of the enemy's 
vessels. 

One day in the latter part of September, near the end of his course around the 
British Isles, the Bon Homme Bichard, the Ballas, and the Alliance suddenly 
fell in with the Baltic fleet, off Flamborough Head. The fleet was protected by 
two British cruisers, the Countess of Scarborough and the Se7'ajjis. The last 
was a fine new frigate, carrying forty-four guns and manned by a picked crew. 
She was larger and far stancher than any of Jones's vessels, but the commander 
was not daunted and prepared the Bon Homme to give her battle. 

The engagement took place on a smooth sea and in the calm moonlight of the 
night of September 23d, a date that will always be remembered, for this was one of 
the most remarkable naval battles ever fought. In everything except the valor and 
genius of her commander, the Serapis had the advantage, for although Captain 
Pearson was a brave and able man, he had his superior in John Paul Jones. The 
Bon Homme had two guns burst at the outset, killing a number of men, and in the 
thick of the fig'ht, for some unknown reason, her own comrade, the Alliance, un- 
der the zealous Frenchman Landais, fired upon her again and again, while the 
Serapis was pouring volley upon volley into her rotten timbers from the other 



John Paul Jones. 155 

side. After awhile Captain Pearson called out, " Has your ship struck ? " to wiiich 
Jones flung- back the answer, '' I have not yet begun to fig-ht." Then he helped 
to lash the jib-stay of the Serapis to the niizzen-mast of the Richard, and the 
deadly firing: was thicker than ever, hand to hand and muzzle to muzzle. 

The Serapis had a full battery against three guns on the Richard's deck, but 
the Richard's tops were filled with sailors who, armed with muskets and hand- 
grenades, swept the Englishman's boards, and finally set fire to a quantity of 
cartridges which exploded with as much damage to the Serapis as the Richard 
i-eceived when her guns burst at the beginning of the battle. Then there came a 
cry that the Richard's hull had been broken in and the vessel was sinking. A 
hundred English prisoners rushed up from below, but before they had a chance to 
leap upon the deck of the Serapis, Jones, cool and commanding, ordered them to 
the pumps. They were prisoners of war, honor-bound to obey him, and so they 
saved the vessel from sinking till the Serapis struck her colors — both vessels then 
on fire. Unseaworthy to start with, the Bon Homme could not be saved ; she was 
left the next morning and soon sank to the bottom. Meanwhile the Pallas, which 
had a better officer than the Alliance, captured the Countess of Scarborough, 
so the American victory was complete. 

Honors and praises were awarded to Jones and his officers in all lands. Louis 
XVI. j)resented him with a sword and the cross of military merit, receptions were 
given, speeches made, and great distinction was paid him on all sides. On return- 
ing to Philadelphia, soon after, he received from Congress a gold medal, and both 
by public honors and individual tokens the people showed him how much they ap- 
preciated his services to his adopted country. 

This was in the early part of 1781, and Jones's next command was to be the 
America, a large vessel carrying seventy-four guns, then being finished at Ports- 
mouth. But before the good ship was ready for the sea, Cornwallis surrendered 
to Washington and there were no more battles to be fought. Then it was decided 
to give her to France in return for a French vessel that had been destroyed in 
Boston Harbor, and Jones joined the French squadron to take part in King Louis's 
war with England, which the alliance with the United States had broug'ht about. 
But the news of the general peace reached them at the West Indies, and he re- 
turned to Philadelphia. 

While on a visit to France about five years later, he received an invitation to 
join the Russian Navy with the rank of a rear admiral. He accepted this upon 
condition that he should still remain an American citizen and should never be asked 
to fight against France. 

He was now forty years of age and a famous hero. The Russian officers felt 
jealous of his great name and the favor he had in their service, and finally sue- 



156 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

ceeded in carrying- false reports of him to the Ozarina — the g-reat Queen Catharine 
— and g-etting- him retired. When he left the service he was promised a handsome 
pension, which was never received ; and the man who had commanded the atten- 
tion and admiration of the world died in poverty and neg"lect at Paris, while a 
commission from the United States to make a treaty with the Dey of Alg"iers was 
on its way to him. 

John Paul Jones was horn at Arhigiand, Scotland, on the 6th of July, 1747. 
He died in Paris, France, July 18, 1792. 

The War of the Revolution had not swept far into the Carolinas before it 
reached the Waxhaw Settlement and the home of Andrew Jackson. He was 

" little Andy " then, an active, daring lad of thirteen, the most mischievous hoy 
in the neighborhood, always " up to " some prank and always getting- into trouble. 
He had fii'st attended an ''old field school," which was a log- hut in one of the 
pine forests that spring up in the South on old fields which have been used for 
raising- cotton until they will grow no more. 

Andy's father had died before he was born, and his mother was poor, but she 
succeeded in having him go away to school, where he was studying for college. 
But he had time to learn little more than reading, writing, and arithmetic before 
tlie war closed the school-houses of the South and filled the minds of 3'oung and 
old with other thoughts than of study. Andy's daring spirit was roused by the 
stirring reports that reached him. He was lively, fond of jumping, foot-racing, 
and wrestling— a regular little soldier even as a school-boy. He was slender, and 
more active than strong, so very often he was thrown. One of his playfellows 
used to say, " I could throw him three times out of four, but he never would stay 
throived. He was dead game even then, and never would give up." He was 
rather hard to get along with among boys of his own age, but there was nothing- 
he would not do to defend the younger bo,ys, who accepted him as their leader. 

When the sweep of Avar reached their district, Andrew and his two larger 
brothers were wild with eagerness to join in "for Congress" and against the 
British. So the three boys — Andy only thirteen years old — mounted their horses 
and went out with the little parties that scoured the country, breaking up the 
small posts of the enemy and doing what deeds of service they could. 

After the surrender of Cornwallis the Waxhaw people went back to their 
homes, from which they had been driven by fear and the enemy ; but Andrew, un- 
settled for study, too 3'^oung and not pi'epared for work, remained in the city. One 
year, to his own shame, he wasted in trying to have a good time, and two others 
were of little account to him, but suddenly making up his mind that he would 
have to go to work at something if he would succeed in life, he left his gay friends 



Andrew Jackson. 



157 



and went back to the country. He taught scliool for awhile, and in the winter of 
1785 began to study law at SaUsbury. There was at this time a fine opportunity 
for young men to worl^ their way up in the world through the profession of law. 
The Tory barristers, who beforetime had had the largest share in this business, 
w^ere now shut out, and the many changes in the country called loudly for others 




Andrew Jackson. 

in the profession to take their places, for old Whig lawyers had more than they 
could do. After two or three years of faithful study, Andrew was licensed to 
practice, and before long he w^as appointed Solicitor for the Western District of 
South Carolina, which is now Tennessee. 

He was then a fine-looking young man about twenty-one years old, call, straight 
and slender, dignified and active. He was a good rider, a capital shot, and a 
leader among his friends in all kinds of out-door sport. He was gay and spirited, 



158 07ie Hundred Famous Americans. 

brave but not rash, prudent but no coward — just the man for a frontier settle- 
ment harassed by Indians. His red neig-libors soon found out his nature, and 
while they feared him thej^also admired him, and called him the " Pointed Knife " 
and the " Sharp Arrow." Every time there was an outbreak, Jackson took the 
lead ag-ainst them, always showuig- so much courag-e and judgment, both in 
meeting- the Indians and in quiet.ing- them, that his name became quite famous 
tlu'oug'liout tlie vicinity, and lie was made major-g'enei'al of tlie new State of Ten- 
nessee, ^\iuch was fornu^d about eig-ht years after he nu)ved out there. 

He also did a great deal in org-anizing- this State, helping- to plan the Constitu- 
tion, representing- it in Washing-ton at different times, l)oth in the House of Rep- 
resentatives and in the Senate, and after that, he held the office of Judg-e of the 
Supreme Court. 

When the s(^cond war with Creat Britain was declared, he easily raised a 
force of twenty-live hundred volunteeers, and offered their services and his own 
to the Government, in June oC 1813. Although his troops were accepted, they 
were not g-iven anything- much to do until the next fall, when they were sent out 
ag-ainst the Creek Indians, Avhom they completely routed, ending- entirely this In- 
dian outbreak, sometimes called the Creek War, and breaking- forever the Indian 
power in North America. It was during- this campaig-n that once, wiien the food 
g-ave out, Jackson set his men the example of eating- hickoiV-nuts to keep from 
starving-, and g-ained by it the name of " Old Hickory." Because of the skill and 
energ-y shown in this hard and dang-erous undertaking-, Jackson was appointed a 
major-g-eneral of the regular army. He was then forty-seven yeai's old., hardy, 
active, and energ-etic ; one of the most popular men in the coimtry. 

He was not now kept back, as when he first entered the wai-. In the fall, when 
an invasion of the British was expected in the South, he was ordered to the Gulf 
of M(\xico to oppose them. In the first place, he seized Pensacola, which belong-ed 
to Spain, but was used by the British, and then he moved his army to New Or- 
leans, foi- althoug-h that was a g-ateway for invasion, it was so poorly defended 
that the English might ahnost have taken it without any effort. In about two 
-v^x'eks after he ari-ived in the " Crescent Cit3^ " the invasion beg-an, but Jackson 
not only succeeded in keeping- the enemy out until the defenses were finished, and 
repulsed their attacl?: on New Year's Day, but also met their veteran troops, which 
far outnumbered his own, in the g-reat assault on the Stli of January, and defeated 
them with g-reat loss to the British fi-oni the deadly fire of his artillery and the 
unerring- aim of his Kentucky and Tennessee riflemen. To the British — says 
Jacl^son's biog-rai)her — there was a loss of two g-(Mierals and seven hundred men 
killed, foui'teen lumdred wounded, and five luuidred prisoners — the result of 
twenty-five minutes' work, in which Jackson's loss was eig-ht killed and thirteen 



Andrew Jackson. 159 

wounded. This deed g-ave " Old Hickory " an everlasting" popularity among- his 
countrymen. It was one of the most brilliant and decisive victories ever g-ained 
in Anioi'ica, and raised Jackson's rank to that of about the g-reatest general in 
the country. It was the last conflict of the war. The treaty had already been 
signed at Ghent, and the news of peace would have reached America before the 
engagement if there had then been the means of quick communication across the 
Atlantic that there now are. 

Those were troublous times in our country. Peace was scarcely settled on 
one hand befoi'o there was war on another. Before long it was the Seminole In- 
dians of Florida— then owned by Spain — who raised an outbreak among- the 
Indians of Georg"ia. General Jackson marched down upon them. He settled 
their outbreak with sharp, quick measures, but aroused the Spanish Government 
by g-oing into their territory and hanging- two Englishmen whom he believed to 
have been the cause of the whole affair. This almost brought on a war with 
Spain. But the matter was settled by John Quincy Adams, who wrote letters 
and despatches to both England and Spain, and finally succeeded in clearing- Jack- 
son from blame. But in America, while Adams and Calhoun upheld him. Clay 
and Crawford censured him, and as each of these led a considerable number of 
others, there was a small war at home, in Cong-ress, for a time. Lutitwas more 
out of jealousy about who should g-ain favor toward the next Presidency than 
because Jackson had hung two men whom he thoug-ht g-uilty of stirring- up 
strife in Florida. 

After Spain had ceded Florida to the United States, General Jackson was 
made Governor of the Territory. Later, he was United States Senator from 
Tennessee for a second time, and became a candidate for President in the cam- 
paign in which John Quincy Adams was elected. But in the next canvass he ran 
again and succeeded ; four years later he was re-elected, more popular than 
ever ; and at the end of his second term he had so much influence that, because of 
his support. Van Buren became the next President, although Calhoun, the other 
candidate, was far more popular in himself. 

He showed g-reat firmness and judgment as President, and held to what he 
thought right against any amount of opposition. After a long struggle he suc- 
ceeded in destroying the Bank of the United States, and took the first steps 
toward having for our country an independent Treasury and a specie currency. 

The six Presidents before him had believed that the Government offices should 
be held by men worthy of their positions without considering- their politics, but 
Jackson believed that the offices should be given to the members of the party in 
power. The party that had elected him was the one now beginning- to be known 
as the Democrats, and so he set the custom called " rotation in office" by dis- 



160 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

charging- officers belonging- to other parties — even Avhen there was no other 
reason for their leaving— and put the Democrats in their places. While this has 
always been strongiy opposed by many citizens and statesmen, it has remained in 
force ever since, although a beginning- was made against it a few years ag-o by 
passing- the laws of Civil Service Reform. 

The greatest event of Jackson's second term was his prompt action in putting- 
down the "•niiUilication" measures in South Carolina after tlie convention led by 
Calhoun, Hayne, and others, to declare the tariff law null and void. His motto 
as a statesman was : " Our Federal Union : it nuist be preserved." 

If this had not been his principle and he had not known how to meet and crush 
the first ell'orts of South Carolina to secede from the Union, the division between 
North and South would probably have been carried, the United States would 
have been broken up, and the g-reat Republic of the West would have been lost 
in a group of petty, sellish States in constant jealousy — and perliaps strife — against 
each other; for there was not then enough sti-englh of feeling among- the Union- 
ists to do what they did thirty years after. 

When Jackson left the White House, it was as a completely successful man. 
One of our historians saj^s : " He had won all his political battles. He had kept 
his oath that he would put down nullification and maintain the Union. He had 
driven Calhoun and his friends out of the Democratic party. He had di-iven the 
Bank of the United States almost out of existence. He had succeeded hi making 
Van Buren, who had supported him in all his struggles, Pi-esident. He had suc- 
ceeded in making- Roger B. Taney, who had supported him in his strug-g-le with 
the Bank, Chief Justice. At the end of his second term, having- beaten all his 
enemies, and rewarded all his friends, Jackson retired from public life to his 
home in Tennessee," leaving- upon the nation an impression that will outlast 
his century and perhaps remam in its ver^^ warp and woof forever. 

Andrew Jackson was born March 15, 17G7, in what was called the Waxhaw 
settlement, either in North or South Carolina, it is not known which, although he 
believed himself a native of the southern State. He died at his country-seat, 
the Hermitag-e, near Nashville, Tennessee, June S, 18-45. 

In the second conflict with England, which is often called the War of 181-3, 
Wiiifield Scott was the hero of the North, and in the war with Mexico, thirty- 
live years later, he became the most distinguished g-eneral hi the United States 
service. 

He belonged to a race of soldiers. His grandfather was one of the brave 
band of Scottish Highlanders who joined Prince Charles and fought in vain to 
place the Stuarts again on the English throne. His father came from Scotland 



Winfield Scott. 



161 



to Virginia, and was a lawyer in Pittsburg- at the time Winfield Avas born. But 
the father died when the boy was five years old, and twelve years after, his 



>v 





Winfield Scott. 



mother died. He was sent to school in Richniond, and then went to William and 
Mary's College and heard law lectures for a 3^ear. At the age of twenty- he was 
admitted to the bar, but three years for pi-eparatoiy studies, college, and law 
course was not time enough to make a lawyer, and Scott did not succeed very 



162 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

well when he beg-an to practice. Before he had settled the difficiiUy of getting 
started in this profession, tlie troubles about American seamen began with Eng- 
land. He saw that it must end in war, and so turned from law to join the army. 
He was placed in General Wilkinson's division, which was sent to protect the 
froutiei- of the new TeiTitory of Louisiana from any possible attacks by the British. 
AVith many others, Scott suspected General Wilkinson of being connected with 
Aaron Burr's conspiracy to separate the Western from the Atlantic States, but 
he spoke too freely about it, and — although it was afterward proved true — he was 
suspended from the army for a year, for disrespect toward his superior officer. 

This was a marked disgrace for the young soldier, and he felt it, too. He knew 
it was not an undeserved punishment, and he resolved to make the best of it. After 
getting back to A^irginia, he looked about for some profitable way to spend the 
time. Some one advised him to devote it to the study of his profession, especially 
military tiU'tics. His biographer says : 

"The knowledge of military art he gained dui-ing this period of his disgrace, 
the caution and skill it taught him to mingle Vvith his chivalrous feelings and boil- 
ing courage, laid the foundation of his after brilliant career." 

At the end of the year he was very glad to take his place again. The war- 
cloud that had been hanging over the country so long uoav burst. Scott was ap- 
pointed lieutenant-colonel and sent to the Canadian frontier, where the loug and 
honorable recoi'd of his warrior life began. His fii'st battle, at Queenstown 
Heights, in Canada, was a failure. But that was no fault of Scott. The next year 
he was again promoted. In May, after a most terrible battle, he captured Fort 
George. This was almost over when a bursting magazine sent a piece of timber 
that hurled the gallant colonel off his horse ; but, jumping up, he urged on his 
men to final victory, and was the lirst to enter the gates of the enemy's fort. He 
was scarcely twenty-seven years old at this time, and in the next year he was ap- 
}H>intiHl brigadier-general and given charge of what is called a "camp of instruc- 
tion "in Buffalo. Here he introduced the modern French system of tactics, 
which had never before been used in America, translating from the French the first 
book on the subject ever brought out in this country. The thorough drilling 
which for three months he gave the soldiers imder his chai'ge was of the greatest 
importance in the successes of the later ciwnpaigns. 

Early in July the army crossed the Niagara River and took Fort Erie. Two 
uays afterward the famous Chippewa engagement took place, after which General 
Riall and his British forces were driven beyond the ChippcAva River. Twenty days 
passed after this struggle before the armies met again, but on the 25th of July — 
it was in tlie j'ear 1813 — they came togetlier at Lundj^'s Lane, and fought the cel- 
ebratiHl " Battle of Niagara." The story of this is well known ; it was one of the 



Winfield Scott. 163 

most stirring- events in American liistory, and Scott was its hero. Although he 
lost one-quarter of his brigade, he refused to yield a bit of g-round, leading almost 
every charge himself, and showing' such gay spirits and unflinching courage 
through the deadliest fire that the troops caught the infection and fought with all 
their might. Every man that day was a hero. Help finally came and the victory 
was won. The Eng-lish officers were brave men, too ; and they were stung" to the 
quick that tlie^^ should have been so determinedly opposed and beaten at last. 
They renewed the attack again and ag-ain, thinking- each one must be the last that 
the ragged i-anks of tlie Anunicans could stand. But the Americaus had the 
same order every time, "• Charge again ! " As Scott, apparently dying, was borne 
to the rear, ever^^ regimental officer in the brigade killed or wounded, he shouted, 
" Charge again ! " After eleven o'clock at night the firing- ceased, leaving- the 
Americans with the field. 

It cannot be said that the battle of Niagara added territory or prisoners to our 
country's possessions, but it was, next to Bunker Hill, the most important contest 
we ever had. Eng-land learned a second time what kind of men she had to fight 
over here. Scott did not recover from his wounds for several months, and, 
the treaty being made at the close of the year, he had no further part in the war. 
But the fame of his valor and great services at Lundy's Lane spread far and wide. 
He was made a major-g-eneral, and received a vote of thanks from Congress, 
which also requested the President — James Madison — to present him with a gold 
medal, "for his disting-uished services," it said, and for his "uniform g-allantry 
and good conduct in keeping- up the reputation of the arms of the United States." 
He received the medal some time later from President Monroe. 

After the ti-eaty was made the famous general was offered the position of Sec- 
retary of War in President Madison's Cabinet, but he declined because he was too 
3^oung-. He was then asked to take it until Mr. Crawford should come back from 
Paris, but he again refused out of respect to General Brown and General Jackson, 
who were older than he, and whose long-er service made them more deserving- of 
the post ; for under the President the Secretary of War has the control of the 
whole United States Army. 

Then he was sent on a mission to Europe to attend to some diplomatic service 
and some military matters, and after doing- both well he returned, married, and, 
for a time, led a quiet military life. 

In 1832 he was sent out to the Northwestern frontier during- the outbreak of 
the Sac Indians, but this trouble — often called the Black Hawk War, from the 
name of the chief of the tribe — was settled before he reached the field. So he had 
no need to show his valor. But when the cholera broke out among- his troops on the 
way, he showed another side of his nature that was more beautiful than all the 



1G4 0)ie Hantlred Famous Aiucricans. 

dash and gallantry at Niagara. He not only made all the provision for his sick 
men, secnring comfort to those who were down and gnarding- against the spread 
of the disease, but he was head nnrse himself. Every day he visited and comforted 
the sufferers, cheered and encouraged the others, and by his words and example 
irispired the well men with hope and courage while the scourge kept on sweeping 
through the ranks. 

In that same year, after he had brought his command safely back to Washing- 
ton, President Jackson sent him to Charleston with the difficult and delicate task 
of keeping order and maintaining the power of the Government against the nulli- 
fiers of South Carolina. This he did with so much tact, prudence, and firmness 
that his errand was perfectly successful. 

In June, 18-11, General Macomb died and General Scott became Commander- 
in-Chief of the United Stales Arm>'. Five years after, the war with Mexico began. 
In the second year Scott took conunand of the field in the South himself, and in 
all the difiicult campaigns with the crafty enemy, his skill in strategy was equal 
to his gallantry in open battle. He forced the surrender of Vera Cruz and the 
stout castle of San Juan d' Ulloa, attacked Cerro Gordo in the next month, and 
took that great mountain stronghold from its fifteen thousand men commanded 
by the great Santa Anna himself. Then, during August and September, he 
worked his way toward the capital, lighting and wiiming the battles of Churu- 
biisco, Molino del Rey, and Chapultepec, and on the morning of September 14th, 
triumphantly leading his army into the great fortress of the country, the city of 
Mexico, g-arrisoned as it was by a large force, and surrounded b}- walls and broad 
lakes. 

He had not reached the city by the regular roads — too many forts had been 
built upon them— but he had his men cut out a new road for themselves so that they 
went around the enemy, and came into the vaUey where the city lay, at a point 
where it was not defended. After their march down the mountahi-side the first 
fighting began about ten miles from the city, and during that great day, the iOth 
of August, the American general won five victories, one after another, and 
chased almost the whole of the Mexican force — three times as large as that of the 
Americans — inside the walls of the capital. Santa Anna sent out proposals for 
peace, and Scott agreed, but after three weeks had passed and they were not yet 
brought to a close, he found tliat his enemies were only using the time to put the 
city under better defenses, so he broke off the peace arrangements and renewed 
the war. First Chapultepec, a strong castle upon the top of a very steep hill, was 
taken in spite of the most determined resistance, and then the whole of the Amer- 
ican Army moved aromid to a side of the city where no attack had been expected. 
Two of the gates were taken before night, and the next morning Scott with his 



f 



Winfield Scott. 165 

army, now much reduced, marched through the main street and at seven o'clock 
the American flag- was floating over the National Palace. During the night 
Santa Anna and his men had fled, so this ended the regular lighting of the Mexi- 
can War ; and after all the difliculties of tlie treaty were settled and the papers 
were signed, on the 3d of February, 1848, the American forces left the capital 
and returned to the United States. 

Scott was covered with glory. Many people would have had him President 
at the next election, but the Whig party was not powerful then, and Franlvlin 
Pierce, the Democrat, received the larger vote. He had already been honored 
and promoted to the hig'hest deg'ree, so now a new office, that of lieutenant-gen- 
eral, was created and bestowed upon him, and limited to last no longer than his life. 

But Scott was a peacemaker as well as a soldiei'. Four times he made peace 
upon the United States borders, and when his native State and many of his old 
friends and comrades were doing all in their power to bring on the Civil War, he 
threw the whole weight of his influence in favor of maintaining the Union. He 
saAv that Washington was well garrisoned and Lincoln was protected on his going 
to the city for his inauguration ; but when the war opened, he asked to be placed 
on the retired list, for he was now seventy-five years old. 

He left the service with full pay, and as the most honored soldier in the coun- 
try, who, though valiant in battle, was a lover of peace, though bold as a lion in 
the fray, was yet a gentleman to his enemies and as tender as a father of his men. 
In war, he would never lead a reckless charge and put a single man uselessly 
in danger. He called that murder. He always shared the hardships of his 
men, and set them the example of being unselfish as well as daring. Yet he was 
very severe in army discipline. He had learned, himself, that a good soldier must 
be careful, obedient, and unflinching, and he required that all his men should be 
true to their calling. 

No man who ever did a mean thing to General Scott found him returning the 
evil. He was open-hearted forgiving, franlv and manly with all. Beside his high 
moral virtues he was a religious man and an earnest advocate of temperance. 

After his retirement, feeling that his long life of hard work was now over, he 
started for Europe to seek rest and change. But he had scarcely landed when the 
news reached him of the boarding of the British vessel Trent by the officers of the 
American war- vessel San Jacinto and the capture of the Confederate messengers. 
Mason and Slidell. This affair seemed likely to bring on another war with England ; 
so General Scott returned at once to America, to be here in case his counsel or ser- 
vices should be needed. Fortunately the wise management of Secretary Seward 
checked the anger of England, and the " affair of the Trev^^y" as it is called, had 
no bad results. 



166 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

The rest of his Ufe the venerable general passed quietly with his family and 
friends. 

Winfield Scott was born at Petersburg-, Virginia, June 13, 1786. He died at 
West Point, New York, May 29, 1866. 

Stephen Decatur became a famous naval hero in our little Tripolitan 
war. At the beginning- of this century there were many Amei-ican vessels upon 
the seas, carrying- g-oods to all parts of the world ; and they had to share the fate of 
the ships of other nations from the pirates of the Mediterranean Sea. For several 
of the Mohammedan States upon the northern shore of Africa — Tripoli, Tunis, 
Algeria, and Morocco — made a business of robbing all the passing- merchant ves- 
sels they could catch — unless they were well paid for letting- them alone. 

After the Amei'icans had made peace with England they began to think about 
the right of paying- robbers to let them alone. So, in 1803, when Tripoli asked 
for a larger sum than usual, it was refused. Of course the angiy little State 
began at once to capture our vessels, thinking to bring us to terms. But still 
President Jefferson refused, and, instead of the money, he sent out the little Ameri- 
can navy of gunboats. Among the other officers was Stephen Decatur, then first 
lieutenant on board the Argus. He was only about twenty-three years old, but 
he had been in the na^'^^ four ;\'ears and had alread}'^ become known as a brave and 
skillful officer, with a talent for managing men as well as ships. 

After the little squadron had been in the Mediterranean for some time, the Phil- 
adelphia, in some way, got aground in the harbor of Tripoli, and was captured. 
Decatur asked permission of the commander, Commodore Preble, to try to get her 
back. This, the chief said, could not be done, but after awhile he told Decatur 
that he might go and burn the frigate so that the Tripolitans could never use her. 
The lieutenant set about his task at once. 

The Intrepid, a small boat, was made ready, twenty men were picked out of 
the squadron's crew ; and, one calm, dark night, under Decatur's command, the 
party set out on their pei'ilous errand. 

The Philadelphia was a good-sized frigate, carrying forty guns, and now she 
was surrounded with other gunboats and batteries, read}" to fire on the Americans at 
any moment. Decatur managed to enter the harbor and get alongside of the Ph ila- 
delphia before the Tripolitans knew that the peaceable-looking little vessel was 
manned by tlie hated "Americanoes." Then they raised a great cry and rushed on 
deck, but it was too late. Decatur and his men were on board, with drawn swords. 
The frightened men of Tripoli were in too great a panic to fight, so in five minutes 
the deck was cleared, and before they regained their senses the ship was in flames 
from stem to stern and the Intrepid was gliding safely out of the harbor. 



Stephen Decatur. 



167 



For this g-allaiit deed, Decatur was made a captain and presented with a sword 
by Congress. More decided measures were soon taken against the power of 




Stephen Decatur. 



the Mediterranean pirates. A land expedition attacked them on the easterly side, 
while the town was also bombarded from the harbor, and Decatur, with three 



168 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

American g-unboats, had a desperate fig-lit with nine of the enemy's vessels. He 
succeeded in capturing- two of them, \>j a close and sharp conflict. Just after 
the first one was taken, he heard that his brother, James Decatur, had boarded 
another ship whose commander had pretended to surrender, and had beentreach- 
erousl^' slain \)j the enemj\ CaUing- to his men to follow, he rushed on board of 
the murderer's vessel, seized the treacherous commander and killed him in a 
deadly hand-to-hand struggle. Decatur's men, following- close upon him, had 
surrounded him in the fight and beaten back the Tripolitans that tried to force 
their way to the relief of then" chief. One, more successful than the others m elud- 
ing the Americans' swords, was just aiming a fatal blow at Decatur, when one of 
his followers, who had lost the use of bpth arms, rushed up and received the blow 
mtended for Decatur on his own head. 

Several attacks were now made upon Tripoli by Commodore Preble, in each of 
which Decatur took an active part. His name, it is said, became a terror all along 
the Barbarj^ coast, and helped to frighten the Bey or chief of the State into mak- 
ing peace the next 3'ear, when he heard that he was coming to attack him again 
as one of the leading commanders of a still larger force than Preble's. 

During the seven 3-ears of peace that followed the Tripolitan War, Decatur was 
put in command of a squadron in Chesapeake Bay and a little later of the frigate 
Chesapeake ; and now, although he was only twentj^-eight years old, he received 
the rank and title of commander in the navy. 

When the War of 1812 broke out, he was alreadj^ guardmg'the entrance to the 
Chesapeake Ba3^ In this squadron were the celebrated frigates the Congress, 
the Wasj:), the Nautilus, and the United States, his own flag-ship. 

His first act after the outbreak was to capture the English frigate, the Mace- 
donia, for which Congress voted him a gold medal. The vessel, with the 
United States, her captor, was taken to New York and fitted up for an expedition 
in the open sea, for which Decatur started when both were readj^ He intended to 
get to sea thi^ough the Narrows, past Staten Island, but finding- the way blockaded 
by the British cruisers, he ran through Long Island Sound, only to find that also 
blockaded at the opening to the sea. Thus hemmed in, he was obliged to wait 
for over a year. 

At last he gave up all hopes of getting out with such large vessels as the United 
States and the Macedonia, so he fitted up a light, swift-sailing vessel, the Presi- 
dent, and started out of New York Bay, hoping in the darkness of the night to 
run past the British cruisers without being seen. But his pilot ran the vessel on 
the bar, where it was pounded by the waves for about two hours and so badly 
strained that when he did get off he could only turn around and start back for 
repairs. But she did not get back. A big British cruiser spied the little Presi- 



Stephen Decatur. 169 

dent and poured its fire into lier. She could not get away, and the commodore 
feared she had but poor chances in firing- bacl^. But the gunners aimed well and 
the British cruiser was so badly damaged that she was obliged to move away. 
Three others, however, came up, and Decatur was obliged to pull down his flag. 
The captured President was taken over to Bermuda, but in about a month peace 
was declared and Decatur returned to New York. 

While our Government was busy with Engiand, the Dey of Algiers — seeming 
not to think of how affairs between America and his neighbors of Tunis and Tripoli 
had ended — employed some of his ships in seizing our merchant vessels and holding 
Americans in slavery ; but he did not keep it up long after the Great Britain 
affairs were settled. Three months after Decatur returned to New York from 
Bermuda, he was at the head of a squadron bound for Algeria. In a month he 
passed the straits of Gibraltar, and captured two of the Algerine squadron. He 
then pushed on to the State and soon convinced the Dey that the best thing he 
could do would be to sign a treaty promising never to molest American ships 
again, and to restore at once all the Americans he held as captives. 

After the treaty was signed the Algerine Prime Minister turned to the British 
Consul and said : " You told us that the Americans would be swept from the seas 
in six months by your navy, and now they make war upon us with some of your 
own vessels." This showed Decatur that England had been encouraging- the 
Dey's operations against us. 

From here the commodore went to Tunis and Tripoli, and demanded a debt of 
damag'es from each of them, in return for the injury the^^ had done to our ship- 
ping- during the war. Decatur's name even, without his presence, carried fear 
into all the Barbary States, and the demands were paid, though very -unwillingly, 
as soon as it was known who made them. "I know this admiral," said the Bey 
of Tunis. " He is the one who burnt the Philadelphia. Why do they send such 
wild young men to treat for peace with old powers ? " 

The work accomplished by Decatur caused the whole of Europe to respect the 
naval power of the United States. They had done what none of the old navies 
dared to attempt. They had put a stop to the piracies of the Barbary States, 
and were the means of freeing- the ships of Europe as well as America from their 
robberies and from the heavy taxes they had demanded from all nations for many 
years. 

After Decatur returned home, in the fall of 1815, there were no more w^ar 
troubles to settle, and he held the office of Navy Commissioner for five years, 
until his death, which occurred in a duel with James Barron, a naval officer. It 
had once been Decatur's duty, as member of a court-martial, to try Commodore 
Barron for misconduct. From that time lie imagined that Decatur was his per- 



170 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

soiial enemy, and insisted upon challeng-ing" him to a duel, which in those days no 
man considered it honorable to decline. 

Stephen Decatur was horn at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 17T9. He 
died at Bladenshurg, Maryland, March 22, 1820. 

One of the midshipmen on the Adams of the fleet first sent to make peace 
with the Barhary States was Oliver Hazard Perry, then a young man sev- 
enteen years of age. He belonged to a seafaring family. His father was a cap- 
tain in the navy of the Revolution, who had distinguished himself in several en- 
gagements, and all of his four brothers became officers in the United States 
Navy, and did excellent service in the War of 1812. 

A midshij)man has not a very important part in the battles of his ship, but 
young Perry made the most of his chances in the Mediterranean. He had already 
been on a vessel under his father's command and had obtained some experience in 
sea-fig'hting a few years before, during the threatened war with France, when 
old Captain Christopher R. Perry, in command of the General Greene, had most 
successfully obeyed orders to disperse a nest of French cruisers at the West Indies. 

Young Perry's good qualities were soon noted ; before long he was promoted, 
and by the time he was twenty-one he reached the rank of lieutenant. Shortly 
after this, the prospects of a second war with England became very clear, and 
Perry was sent to the navy yards at Newport to overlook the building of seven- 
teen gunboats. When they were finished, they were called into immediate use, 
and he was told to take charge of them and station his fleet around New York to 
protect our trading- vessels from the French and English, who were at war at the 
time and were inclined to treat the young American nation with contempt. France 
was rather unfriendly to us yet, because the Government refused to take her part 
in the European war, about sixteen years after the Revolution. Matters were 
better now than they had been, but there were still a good many annoyances, from 
time to time. 

In about 1808 Perry was employed to attend to the building of more vessels, 
and after that he was put in charge of the Revenge and a squadron of smaller 
vessels ordered to cruise along the Atlantic coast. The troubles that finally 
broug'ht on the war were growing every month, and a good fleet under able com- 
mand was needed all along our shores to protect American merchant vessels from 
the British cruisers. One day an order came to the commander of the Revenge 
to do something more than cruise up and down. The American merchantman 
Diana, which belonged to some private citizens of the United States, had been 
carried off by an Englishman and put under British colors. Perry's orders 
were to find and capture her. He soon found out where she was stationed, and. 



I 

I 



Oliver Hazard Perry. 



171 



collecting" his forces, boldly sailed up and took possession of her. The Eng-lish- 
men fumed and fired their g-uns, but Perry stood their smoke and shell, and tri- 
umphantly carried off his prize. 

After this the English cruisers grew more and more insolent. At last they 
began to board all vessels carrying the American flag, and, by what they called 



I 




Oliver Hazard Perry. 

a " right of search," carry off all the British-born sailors they could find and put 
them into their own service, claiming that he who had been a Brit^'sh subject once 
must always be. Then some of the leaders in Congress declared that we were 
having a peace that was like war, and roused the nation to a second resistance 
against royal tyranny. 

War was declared against Great Britain June 18, 1813, and although the 



172 One Hundred Famoiis Americans. 

news reached Perry soon after his wedding-day, he hastened to Wasliington and 
asked for -a. \)\:\ce in tlie navy. He was promised tlie fii'st one that could be pre- 
pared for an ofliciM- of liis rank. Our navy was then in a very g-ood condition ; we 
had a nmnber of nirw vessels and a vahant corps of marines. Perry was soon put 
in command of a fiotilla to defend Newport. His rank was now master com- 
mandant, a good post ; buu there was little to be done here, and Perry was very 
anxious to be in the thickest of the light. So, in the next February, he was 
ordered to Lake Erie to build two brigs and take command of a fleet to engage 
the British vessels already on the lake. 

Before his vessels were ready he was invited to assist Commodore Cliauncey 
in making an attack on Fort George. His little boat arrived at the conuno- 
dore's ship just before the battle. He struck in at once, and, seeing that the 
order of the battle had been very poorly planned, his great desire was to fill up 
the gaps. He seemed to be everywhere just when needed, in lighting, in direct- 
ing attacks, and in inspiring the men. The British were successfully driven out, 
and in the pride of his victory, Commodore Cliauncey did not hesHate to say that 
it was largely Captain Perry's work that had won the day. 

Before long the new squadron was finished and equipped, and lay, read.^• for 
action, in Put-in Bay. Soon the expected enemy was sighted near the town of 
Sandusky. There were six vessels with a lighting force of over sixty guns and 
five hundred men. Perry with his nine vessels had about the same number of 
men, but only fifty-four guns, whose range was much shorter than the British 
cannon. When thoy met, this gave the English the advantage for awhile, and 
Perry's flag- ship was badl\' damaged. He was obliged to leave it, and in the 
thick of the fight, with smoke of powder filling the air, and shots flying all about 
him, he took an open boat to the Niagara, half a mile away. Then, with all the 
smaller vessels close together, he bore down upon the British, opening a fire that 
in seven minutes compelled the surrender of their flag-ship, which was quickly 
followed by three more. The other two tried to run away, but were overtaken 
and captured in a little over an hour. This closed the battle of Lake Erie, for 
which the lOth of October, 1813, will always be a memorable date in American 
history. It was a brilliant victory. That three hours of fighting cleared 
the Northwest of a powerful branch of the enemy's forces. As soon as the 
conflict was decided, Perry seized a scrap of paper, and, resting it on his hat, 
wrote to headquarters : *' We have met the enemy, and they are ours— two ships, 
two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop." 

This victory was of great importance ; it gave the Americans complete con- 
trol of the lakes and was the chief step toward closing the war in the West. 
Congress was delighted with the conquest. Perry and Elliot, one of his officers, 



Oliver Hazard Perry. 173 

were rewarded with g"old medals, while other honors were bestowed upon some of 
the lesser officers who had shown specially gallant conduct. 

After the British were driven out of the West, and the war in that section 
drew to a close. Perry was given another command in the South, upon the Java, 
a new frigate just finished at Baltimore. But this was shut up in the bay by 
a British squadron, which finally began to ascend the Potomac. Perry was 
instantly called to take charge of a fort and fire upon them as they passed. But 
they had a good place and kept it, hemming in the Java, while her commander 
employed his time fitting out other ships, until the Avar was over. 

In the Algeria trouble, which had to be settled as soon as the treaty with 
England was signed. Perry, in the Java, followed Decatur to the Mediterranean, 
where he helped the gallant hero of the Tripolitan War to force the rest of the 
Barbary pirates to promise to let American ships alone without being paid for it. 

Among the many deeds of Perry's noble-heartedness and courage, there is one 
that occurred after his return from the Mediterranean, which filled his country- 
men with greater admiration than even the victory of Lake Erie. There he had 
his country's freedom and his own glory to spur him on. But this deed was only 
in answer to a call of duty, which many men would never have heard. His vessel 
lay in Newport Harbor in the winter of 1818. One bitterly cold night, during a 
fearful storm, word was brought that a merchant vessel had been driven on a 
reef, six miles away. As soon as Perry heard it, he called out to his men to man 
his barge, and, in that inspiring voice which had so often cheered the battle ranks 
wlien hope was wavering, rang out the shout, " Come, my boys, we are going to 
the relief of shipwrecked seamen ; pull away ! " Out in the face of the bitter 
storm and over the surging sea they went. They made toward the reef, and 
found a quarter-deck of the wreck floating upon the angry waves, with eleven 
half-dead men clinging to her timbers. The poor fellows were rescued and taken 
back to care, to comfort, and to life. 

The pirates of the Barbary States were not the only robbers that liarassed 
American ships. There was a SAvarm of them in the West India seas that an- 
noyed and even injured our commerce very seriousl,y, and in the spring Perry 
was put in command of a squadron and ordered to wliip the troublesome thieves, 
and then go to the Caribbean Sea and pay the respects of his nation to the new 
republics along the coast. He reached the South, but had only been there a short 
time, and had not yet fulfilled his commission before he died of the yellow fever, 
which was then spreading through his squadron, 

Oliver H. Perry was born at South Kingston, Rhode Island, August 23, 1785 ; 
he died on his thirty-fourth birthday, 1819, on board the John Adams, just as 
she was entering the harbor of Port Spain, in the West India island of Trinidad. 



174 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

The commander of the famous expedition to Japan which induced the Govern- 
ment to form a commercial treaty with the United States and opened the way for 
all the civilized world into the hermit nations of the East, was not the hero of Lake 
Erie, but his .younger brother, Matthew Calbraitli Perry. He, too, was a 
commodore and a naval hero of a good deal of importance. He became a lieuten- 
ant during the War of 1812, successfully captured a number of West India pirates 
in the sea-thieving- times that folloAved that struggle, and later he proved himself 
a gallant officer in the capture of Vera Cruz. Meanwhile in times of peace he had 
commanded several cruising squadrons, and had held some important posts in the 
Brooklyn Navy Yard. 

For many years he was one of the first men in the countrj^ who looked forward 
to peacefully forming a treaty with the rich nation of Japan, and when in 1852 the 
Government undertook. the expedition to secure that much-to-be-desired object, 
Commodore Perry — his celebrated bi'other had died long before — was the man to 
command it ; for years he had carefully studied the land, the people, and the prob- 
lem of forming a friendly commercial treaty between their nation and our ow^n. 

His squadron arrived in the Bay of Yedo on the 7th of July, 1853, and lay 
there for ten days, letters being sent to the tycoon, the lieutenant of the mikado, 
or real sovereign of the empire. The next February the fleet returned, and in the 
early pai't of Mai'cli the formal papers and agreements between the United States 
and Japan were exchanged in Yokohama, the poi't of the capital, on the spot wiiere 
the Union Chi'istian Church now stands. 

Then the commander returned with his fleet ; but he lived only a few years 
after his errand was accomplished. The narrative of this most important expedi- 
tion, though edited by some one else, is almost entirely as Commodore Perry 
wrote it himself, in his joui-nals and other papers. He was a cultivated, scholarly 
man as well as a hero and a hardy sailor. 

M. C. Perry was born at South Kingston, Rhode Island, in the year 1795. He 
died in New York City, March 1, 1858. 



MILITARY AND NAVAL COMMANDERS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 



ON the 1st of November, 1861, when General Scott gave up his post as com- 
mander of the armies of the United States, the g-eneral appointed to take 
his place was George Briiitoii McClellan. The Civil War had now fully 
begun. Fort Sumter, upon which the first shot had been fired in January, had 
surrendered on the 13th of April, the Southern ports were blockaded by Union 
troops, and serious fighting- had already been going on in West Virginia since 
early in July. 

General McClellan had been the commander of the Union forces in these en- 
gagements, and was then the foremost American general in active service. He 
was about forty years oW, a West Point graduate, and a hardy, well-trained sol- 
dier. He had had a good deal of creditable experience in the field, having been a 
captain in the Mexican War ; he had also done service as a military engineer in 
several parts of the United States, and in 1855 he was sent on the military com- 
mission to the Crimean War in the south of Europe. Although he was out of 
army life after that and engaged in railroad building and management, he was still 
a soldier and was among the first Northern officers to take command when the 
Civil War broke out, in the memorable month of March, 1861. At first he be- 
came major-general of the Ohio Volunteers, but in May he was changed to the 
same rank in the regular army. He began his first active work in Western Vir- 
ginia, fighting several successful battles and soon clearing the field of all the Con- 
federate troops. 

On the day after the battle of Bull Run, when the Northern Army under Gen- 
eral Irwin McDowell was defeated by the Confederate forces under General P. T. 
S. Beauregard, McClellan was called to Washington and given command of the 
Army of the Potomac. His first work after this was to drill and organize this 
army, and before the end of the year it was a fine, well-ordered body of one hun- 
dred and fifty thousand men. No great deeds were done during this year, but 
the enemy's Imes were steadily pushed back, and the Union men — like the Con- 
federates — were kept very busy fortifying important places. 



r;G One llumlrcil Iuiuioks Americans. 

Fiv'e months after this promotion McClollan was a^ain raised in rank and took 
the plaee of the a^ed Comma nder-in-Cliief, Winfield Scott. He still kept eharg-e 
of the Potomac division, Avhich was soon in excelliMit condition for active "work, and 
was moved on towai'd Richmond npon Presidi'nt Lincoln's order that a ^vneral 
movement toward action should be made by all the armies, on the ^>'-3d of Febru- 
ary. After a. month's sieye he took Yorktown, Virginia, which was held by the 
Confedei'ates under Joseph E, Johnston. It was an easy conquest, for the enemy 
left it as soon as the iiriny be^'an. Johnston fell back towards Richmond and Mc- 
Clellan willini;iy followed, overtakii^i;- liini at Williamsburg'. This was a battle 
which did not end in a victory for either side, but it enabled Johnston to en,i;-ai;'ii 
the enemy loni;' enoui^'h to i;"et his su[)plies safely on the way to Richmond, whither 
he followed, pursued by McClellan as far as the CMiickahominy. AVhile the North- 
ern Army was fording- this stream a heavy rain came on, swelling it so that it was 
impossible for the rest of the men to g-et over. He beg'an at once to build bridges 
for the r(>sti of his army to cross upon. He also sent tor General McDowell to 
bring- him reinforcements, but meanwhile Thomas J. Jackson, anotlun- able Con- 
federate commander, was making- such raids around Washington that IMcDowell 
had to I'et-urn with about ten thousand men to protect the capital. 

This was a line chance for Johnston, who at once hui-ried back to the st I'oam to 
have a tight with the division that had crossed and to vanquish them if he could 
before the others could get over. Before the bridges were Jinished ho was well on 
his way back, and General Stuart, also seeing- the Noi'thern ccunniauder's plight, 
had ridden around tlu> army and toi'u u[) the railroad thati was to have brought 
McClellan supplies; ami (u'uei-al \a\\ with an army now nearly as larg-e as his 
own, had crossed the (^hickahominy without any bridg-es ; and, with the help of 
Jackson, who luul come down from the north, engag-ed the part of IMcClellan's 
army that had staid on the north side of the stream and were at Mechanicsville. 

The battle here fougliti was the first of what are called the Seven Days' Bat- 
tles, which foiretl jMcClellau's retreat and made him g-ive up the attack on Rich- 
mond, for the time. Tln> night after the battle, he fell back to Gaines' Mills, but 
was overt aktMi l)y Lee tlu> next day, when another conllict took place. McClellan 
did not stop to see who was beaten when night came, but hurried on towards the 
James River, that he might miite his forces. The part that had crossed the 
Chickahominy was still on the other side of the stream ; bid. they had beaten tlie 
Confeilerates — after a long- struggle in which Johnston was wouniled. 

Three more battles folUnved in the next three days. June 29tli and 30th and 
Jidy 1st. The last one was at jMalviMii Hill, v(>ry neai" the James. Lee was 
beaten with heavy loss. Many people thought that if INlcClellan had followed up 
this victory he might have fought his way on to Richmontl. l>ut he felt that 



George I ir in ton. i\[cClellan. 



177 



witlioiit, more men he was sure of faHmv in siicli an uiuU^rtaldn-. He was anx- 
ious, however, to press on toward the South, and sent many calls for reinforce- 




--'^^ 






-.'■/■' 



George Brinton McClellan. 



ments, but the President had no inoi-e to spai-e, and none were sent. So tlie pen- 
insula campaii^-n was hroug-ht to a close. 

There was considerable dissatisfaction about the way in which McClellan had 
manag-ed this expedition, and, while he was still kept in command of the Potomac 



178 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

division, General Henry W. Hal leek was put in his i^lace as Commander-in-Chief. 
So wliile McClellan was anxiously waitiui;- at Harrison's LantUn:^- for reinforce- 
ments that he mig-ht g-o on again to attack Richmond, a new plan was set in mo- 
tion in the Nortli. General Pope had been sent into Virginia, when it was soon 
fomid that General Lee had sent Jackson up to attack liim, and so McClellan re- 
ceived orders to despatch his troops up to the help of Pope. 

This was a. great disappointment to McClellan. He thoug-ht that the most 
telling- blow to the Confederacy could be struck at Richmond, and he felt that if 
he could only receive reinforcements he could strike it. But President Lincoln 
thought otherwise. On the 16th of Aug-ust the troops began to return North. 
When Lee saw them safely away from Richmond he moved on to help Jackson, 
who vanquished Pope at the second battle of Bull Run before McClellan's men 
reached the field. It has been said that if General McClellan had pushed his 
troops on quickly, the battle mig'lit have been decided on the other side. But all 
this has happened so recently that all tlie truth may not ^■et be known about it. 

As soon as the news of Pope's teriible defeat reached him, McClellan hurried 
on to Washing-ton, Avhere he began preparations to defend the city ag-ainst Lee, 
whom he was afterward sent out to watch and to keep from making- any serious 
attacks anywhere. When it was found that he was g-etting- ready to invade Mary- 
laud, McClellan then marched into that State and stopped him at South Moun- 
tain. Here a battle was foug-ht on the lltli of September, which compelled the 
Confederates to change their course. McClellan followed them up and on the ITth 
the g-reat battle of Autietam was fought. IMcClellan was the victor, and if liis 
army had not been out of condition for a long- march and there had been more 
forces to prevent Lee from getting- to Washington, he would have followed up the 
victory in pursuit. But he felt that the risk was too g-reat. His soldiers were badly 
off ; they needed supplies of all kinds, mostly clothing-, and wanted shoes so much 
that it was ver\- dillicult for them to march. * McClellan Avas ahva3'S very careful of 
his men, and would rather wait and lose some advantag-e over his enemy than ex- 
pose them to lumecessary suffering. He sent many messages to Washington 
urging- his immediate need of more supplies. The order for them was given, hut, 
through some mistake, the shoes and clothing, which were needed most of all, 
were not forwarded with the rest, but g-iven to the troops aroimd Washington. 
McClellan could not order his men to g-o on in their destitute condition, so they 
were oblig-ed to Avait, while everybody was out of patience with his g-eneralship 
because he did not move on. 

Thus, more than a month was wasted, but at last they could g-o; in six days 
they made the march from the Potomac to Warrenton, where they were prepared 
to attack Lee for a g-rand battle for which McClellan had very carefully made 



I 



Ulysses Simpson Grant. 179 

plans all ready. Late at night on the 7th of November, the day after they reached 
the field, a messeng-er came mto the camp with orders from Wasliing-ton for him 
to g-ive over his command to General Ambrose E. Burnside, who had brought his 
army to reinforce that of McClellan about four months before this time. The 
commander was deeply grieved by this message ; but he quietly handed it over 
to Burnside and prepared to '' repair to Trenton, New Jersey," at once, as the order 
directed. The next day he spent detailing to Burnside his plans for the battle and 
advising him about the future operations. On the 9tli he took leave of the sorrowful 
and indignant army. One of our historians has said it would have needed but an 
encouraging look from McClellan to have started an open revolt against the new 
commander ; but he cast his weight of influence the other way. He told them to 
stand by General Burnside as they had stood by him, and all would be well. The 
men followed his words under their new leader, and many of them never lived 
after they heard the order to go into the fatal battle that followed. 

McClellan went at once to Trenton and took no further part in the war. Many 
people thought and some historians now state that this was but right, as the gen- 
eral had let valuable time and good chances go by, while delaying to obey orders ; 
but there are also many people who feel that he was unfairly treated in the mat- 
ter of both supplies and forces, and that there were personal enemies among the 
officers, who, to advance themselves, placed McClellan in an unfavorable light with 
the President and Secretary Stanton. At any rate he was still popular with a 
large party of the War Democrats, and was nominated by them for the Presidency 
at the close of Lincoln's first term. 

The four years that followed the war he spent in Europe, and after his return 
he was Superintendent of Docks and Piers in New York City for a long time. In 
1877 he was made Governor of New Jersey, and the latter years of his life were 
spent on a country-seat on the brow of the rocky New Jerse}^ hills, called Orange 
Mountain. 

George B. McClellan was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, December 3, 
1836. He died at Orange, New Jersey, October 28, 1885. 

The first real victory of the Union Army was the capture of Fort Donelson, on 
the 12th of February, 1802. Ulysses Simpson Grant was the leader of the 
charge. He was then commander of the smaller division of the two Northern 
armies, that were having hard work to hold their own against the long- line of 
Albert Sidney Johnston's Confederate forces through Kentuck,y and Tennessee. 
Scarcely any one outside of the army had ever heard of him before. Now he was 
on the high-road — built by courage, determination, and ability— which leads to 
greatness. 



180 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Ho bad been well educated, and was particularly g-ood in matbematics ; and al- 
tbong-b be was not a real brilliant scbolar, one of bis teacliers once said : " If tbe 
country ever bears of any of tbese students, it will be from young- Grant." He 
g-raduated from West Point tbree years after General McClellan, at tbe age of 
twenty-one, and was placed in a regiment tbat was soon statioued iu ^Missouri. 

After about two j^ears tbe regiment was ordered to join General Ta.ylor's army 
iu tbe Mexican War, and Grant's first battle was at Palo Alto, May 8, 1846. 
Soon after, in tbe couflict of Molino del Rey, be fougbt so bravely tbat be was 
raised to tbe rank of lieutenant. Five days latei-, in Colonel Garland's account of 
tbe battle of Cbapultepec, be said to bis superior officer: "I must not fail to call 
attention to Lieutenant Grant, of tbe Fourlb lufautry, wbo acquitted bimself most 
nobly upon several occasions under my own observation." Lieutenant Grant was 
made a captain at once. 

After tbe Mexican War he married and settled on a farm near St. Louis. His 
farming- was not a success, so be took up tbe real estate business, wbich was little 
bett<;r, so tbat be finally went back to bis old honie at Point Pleasant, in Obio, and 
went to work in bis fatber's tannery. But wben tbe war broke out be returned to 
tbe army at once. He said: "Tbe Government bas educated me for tbe ai-my. 
Wbat I am I owe to my country. I bave served bei- tbrougb oue Avar, and live or 
die I will serve ber tbroug-li this." Still be was not fond of lig-btiug-, for be wrote, 
some time after the outbreak : "■ I never Avent into battle Avilling-ly or AAdtb entbusi- 
asm. I Avas alwa\s giad Avben a battle Avas over. I take no interest in armies. 
When I resigned, after tbe Mexican War, and Avent to tbe farm, I Avas bapp.w 
Wben tbe Rebellion came I returned to the service because it Avas a duty." 

He Avas made captain of a company of Illinois A'olunteers at first, but in a few 
months be Avas raised to the rank of brig-ad ier-general and placed in command of 
the troops at Cairo, Illinois, one of the posts ag-ainst Johnston's strong- military 
lines. On September (ith, he took the toAvn of Paducab, at the mouth of tbe Ten- 
nessee ; on the '2'A\\ be captured Smithland, at tbe mouth of tbe Cumberland River. 
Then, afliM- about six Aveeks, lie g-ained another battle at Belmont, during- Avbich 
bis horse Avas shot from under him. After that he Avas placed in command of the 
district of Cairo, one of tbe chief military divisions in the Southwest. In the early 
part of the second year of the war, Avith tbe assistance of Commodore Foote, Grant 
captured Fort Henry, and ten days after be took Fort Donelson after a severe 
Ilg-bt. Before this last capture the Confederate officer in command — avIio began 
to ha\^e some di-ead of the steady, determined Avay the Cairo commander i>ushed 
ahead — proposed to General Grant to lun-e some commissioners appointed to 
arrange terms of surrender. Grant replied: ** No other terms than an un- 
conditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I proi)ose to moAe ini- 



Ulysses Simpson Grant. 



181 



mediately upon your works ; ' ' and he did . These operations were beg-inning to 1 ook 
like successful warfare ; the gallant leader was made raajor-g-eneral, and from that 
time forward his movements were carefully watched hy the President, the Secre- 
tary of War, and the whole nation. 

Soon after this, General Halleck's death left a large force without a com- 




Ulysses Simpson Grant. 



mander and Grant was put in the place. The time had now come for bold, prompt 
action, and this was the man the country needed. At daybreak on the 6th of April, 
the Confederates surprised a portion of his forces near Corinth and drove the 
Northerners out of their camp with heavy loss. General Grant arrived on the field 
at eight o'clock, and instantly set to work to reform the broken lines, and with the 



l82 One llundred Famous Americans. 

help of frosli troojis di-ovo the enemy baeli. This so pleased the authorities at 
Washing-ton t.iiat anotlier department was added to his command at once. 

After a (|niet summer and a busy fall, witli the victory at luka, Mississippi, on 
Se})tend)ei' ;)d and -11 li, auotluM- at C-orinth in tlie first week of October, and Avith 
his comma lid nuich eidari;i'(l, he bei;-an plamiini;- lo take Vicksbur^-, " the Gibj-aitar 
of the Mississippi." Tiie tifst attcMupt failed, but this only made him nioi'e tleter- 
mined to ta Ivc it finally. He lii'st cleared the surroundini;' field, and then on the 1 Slh 
of May, bS(i;5, he lakl siege to the place, keeping it up foj' two months, till the city 
surrencU'icd. 

Grant was tluMi pi'omott'd to the rank of major-general in the regidar army, 
and in October he was giv(>n conunand of a still larger division, having under him 
(leneral Sherman, Genei-ai Thomas, Genei-al Burnside, and (General Hooker. On 
the '^»4th and '^5111 of the next month he fought and gainetl the terrible battles of 
Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain near Chattanooga, part of which was 
fought above the clouds. For this victory he was awarded a gold medal by Con- 
gress and I'csolutions of thanks were passed by some of the State Legislatures. 
CV)ngress also passed a bill reviving the I'ank of lieutenant-general of the army, 
which was once before ci'eated for General Scott and gave conti-ol of the whole 
army to one man. As soon as the bill was passed President Lincoln appointed 
General Grant to the odice and called him to Washington to receive his commis- 
sion. 

He now had the conti'ol of the entire army and at once began planning to strike 
at the t wo vital points of the enemy, Atlanta and Richmond. He sent Sherman to 
Atlanta, and on May lUl started, himself, for Richmond. 

But between him and Richmond stood General Lee, who was almost as great a 
soldier as himself, and was firmly resolved not to let liini pass, l^efore Grant had 
gone very far the two armi(>s met and fought the terrible battle of the Wilderness. 
Aftei" losing numy of his men Grant found that Lee could not be overcome, but, 
instead of turning back, he marched around the wing of tlie Confederate Army, 
and went on. Ijce ((uickly turned and stopped him again at Spottsylvania, where 
another bloody battle was fought Avithout a victory for either side. 

Again Grant passed around Lee's ai'my and marched on. " I propose to fight 
it out on this line if it takes all summer," he wrote to Washington. At North 
Anna River he found Lee again in his way, but another " Hank movement '' and he 
was on his way again. Tlie same thing was repeated at Cold Harbor and still the 
crv was '* On to Richmoiul ! " 

Meanwhile the peo^ile began to murmur that the general was winning no more 
battles, and Secretary Stanton talked seriously with the President about his retain- 
ing Grant in command. But Lincoln said, " I rather like the man. I guess we'll 






Ulysses ISimpso)i (h-ant. 183 

try him awliilo long-cr." So Grant kept on his way, reached Petersburg- by the 
middle of June, and began the sieg-e. This was an important post, about twenty 
miles from Riclmiond ; it was too strongly fortified to be taken by assault, and was 
well garrisoned, lor it lield Lee's foi'ces. Both armies were kept at work during- 
that siege, Lee's in making defenses, Grant's in forcing- his enemy ; but on the 2d 
of April in the next year he l)urst his way thi'oiigh Lee's long line of entrench- 
ments and forccxl him to reti-eat. Lee moved westward, and (xi-ant, followin 
closely, overtook him at Appomattox, where seven days after the capture of Peters 
burg, he suri'cndered the remainder of his army. He sig-ned the articles and 
handed General Grant his sword, but the conqueror quickly returned it with the 
courtesy of a true g-entleman. He foi-bade any signs of rejoicing- among- his men. 
''The rebels are our countrymen again," he said. He ordered rations to be dis- 
tributed among them, a!id told them to take their hoi'ses home, for they would 
need them for the spiing plowing-. 

The spirit of good-will was seen everywhere. Union men and Confederates 
mingled together, enjoying rest after tlie long years of woi'k, and rejoicing in the 
thoughts of peace and the opportunity of returning home, when suddenly all was 
changed into sadness and division by the terrible news of Lincoln's murder. 

The Vice-President, Andrew Johnson, then became President and another spirit 
prevailed tlu'oughout the country. He began almost immcidiately to say that " the 
rebels nuist be ])unislied ;" so he ordered Secretary Stanton to arrest the leaders 
of the Confederacy. The moment General Grant heard of this he jumped on his 
horse, galloped to Secretary Stanton's office, and asked if any such orders had 
been issued. 

" I have issued writs for the arrest of all the pr-ominent rebels, and ofhcers will 
be despatched on the mission soon," replied the Secretary. 

General Grant appeared cool, altlioug-h he was very much excited, and quickly 
said : " Mr. Seci-etai-y, when General Lee surrendered to me at Apt)omattox, I g-ave 
him my word of bonoi- that neithci- he nor any of his follower's would be disturbed 
so long as they obeyed their parole of honor. I have lear-ned nothing to cause me 
to believe that any of them have broken their piomises, and liave come here to 
make you aware of that fact, and would also suggest that th(\se oi-ders be can- 
celled." 

Secretary Stanton became terribly angry, and said : " General Gi'ant, are you 
aware whom you are talking- to ? I a-m the Secretary of War." 

Quick as a flash Genei-al Grant answered back: "And I am General Grant, 
Issue those orders at youi- [)eril ! " The orders were not issued. 

When President Johnson heard of this, he sunuuoned General Grant and i-old 
him that he wished the army to be.enq)lo;) cd to arrest the members of the rebel 



184 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

adiiiinistration, the rebel CoiigTess, and rebel State governments, as well as the 
rebel army and naval olhcers. ''I intend to hang- every mother's son of tliem," 
said he. 

" I will not employ the army for any such purpose," replied General Grant, 
" nor will I let it he employed for any such purpose." 

" But," said Johnson, " I am, by the Constitution,. Commander-in-Chief. What 
will you do if I give you such orders ? " 

'' Disobey them," quietly rejoined Grant, " and state my reasons to Cong-ress 
and the country. The soldiers of the South accepted my parole, which, by the 
laws of war and of the United States, I was authorized to give. It guaranteed 
that they should not be molested if they laid down their arms, went home, and 
obeyed the laws. They did so. I will stand by that parole, and the first court- 
martial you order may be one to tiy me, for I will not issue such orders to the 
army ; but I will give the word of command agahist them." 

Johnson saw that General Grant was too firm to be moved, and he also knew 
that it would be very unwise for him to persist, for just now the people would side 
with the hero, against himself, Stanton, and all the rest of his Cabinet, for Grant 
was very popular. Still he was determined to carry out his plans, so he resolved 
to get Grant out of the way, and arranged to send him off on a foreign mission. 
But the genei-al saw through this proposal and quietly refused the appointment. 
So the matter had to be given up and the nation was saved the disgrace of hang- 
ing its citizens for doing what seemed to them right, although in another light it 
was treason to the Government. 

If Grant had not thus firmly kept his promise, even at the risk of -being court- 
martialed and deprived of his position, it w^oukl have scarcely'- been possible to 
have brought about a peaceful settlement between the North and the South ; and 
the Federal Union, for which more men fought than for anti-slavery, might have 
been bi'oken forever. 

At the next election. General Grant was made Presiilent, and almost his first 
words to the people were, " Let us have peace." As a thoughtful and wise states- 
man he did a great deal to promote a united feeling throughout the country ar.d 
to have the new^ arrangements bring about a common interest in the nation as a 
whole. At the end of his first term he was cordially re-elected and was about avS 
popular as ever at the close of the next four years. Many Avere even in favor of 
having him for a third term. 

But he had made mistakes. Too often he believed other people as honest as 
himself, and his loyalty to his friends made him refuse to credit anything against 
them. Some of his counsellors, wdio were shrewd and dishonest, took advantage 
of this, traded upon his confidence, and brought his administration into disrepute. 



Ulysses Simpson Orant. 185 

After the close of his second term, General Grant left public life forever. The 
remainder of his years was spent in a long- traveling- tour with his friends and 
family, and in business. At home and abroad he received a great many honors, 
and when trouble came upon him in business, the highest tokens of loving re- 
gard Avere paid him by his countrymen and his friends in foreign lands.' 

He was never known to talk much. While he was President he made no 
long speeches as most of the othei's had done upon grand occasions, and people 
thought he was no speaker. But he could talk well. At a great dinner at Ham- 
burg, Germany, where the American Consul referred to him as the man who had 
saved the Union, Grant's reply is considered one of the finest speeches in our 
language : " If our country could be saved or ruined," he said, " by the efforts of 
one man we should no more have a country ; there are many men who would have 
done far better than I did under the circumstances. If I had never held command ; 
if I had fallen ; if all our generals had fallen, there were ten thousand behind us 
who would have done our work just as well, who would have followed the contest 
to the end and never surrendered the Union. We did our work as well as we 
could, and so did thousands of others. We deserve no credit for it, for we should 
have been unworthy of our country and of the American name if we had not made 
every sacrifice for the Union. What saved the Union was the coming forward of 
the young men of the nation. The humblest soldier who carried a musket is en- 
titled to as much credit for the result of the war as those who were in command." 

One of the countries visited by Grant was Mexico. He was much interested 
in it, and thought that if railroads could be built connecting the interior with the 
United States, it would be a very valuable neighbor, for it would want to buy 
many of our manufactures, and would sell us many tropical products cheaper than 
we could buy them at other places. He laid this before the nation on his return 
and through his influence the Mexican railroads were built. The very last year 
of his life was clouded by a terrible busmess failure, which came through the dis- 
honesty of his partner, and swept away money borrowed by him for the partner 
and all his own fortune, except a gift from New York that could not be touched. 
He did all in his power to repair the loss, and even when overtaken with an incura- 
ble disease, kept steadily at work writing a book and many magazine articles 
about the war. The publishers paid very large prices for these articles and 
memoirs, and in spite of great suffering and growing weakness he labored steadily 
on till the work was finished which would paj^ his debts and provide for his wife 
as long as she lives. 

General Grant was born in Point Pleasant, Ohio, April 27, 1822. He died at 
Mount McGregor, near Saratoga, New York, July 23, 1885. 



186 One Hundred Famous Americauii. 

Just before General G rant went to Wasliing-ton to receive the g-reat commission 
of Lieuten ant-General of the Army, he wrote to William Tecumseli Sheriiiaii, 

saying-: "It is to .you and to General McPherson, above all others, to whom 1 
feel mdebted for whatever I have had of success." 

General Sherman was another of the West Point graduates who took part in 
the Seminole War in Florida and then in the g-reat Civil War, For two years 
before 1861 he was Superintendent of the Louisiana Military School at Alexandria, 
and when the conflict beg-an, he went to Washing-ton, hoping- to help make the 
g-reat preparations he felt we should need before it was over. But the authorities 
at the capital did not foresee the terrible extent of the strug-gle, and his advice and 
services about making- ready were not accepted. He then became a colonel in the 
infantry, and commanded a brig-ade in Genei-al McDowell's army at the first bat- 
tle of Bull Run. 

He had little active w^ork during- the first j'ear, but in the next March he ob- 
tained command of a division in General Grant's Army of the Tennessee, and 
marched with his chief to Pittsburg- Landing-, and there fought under him in the 
terrible battle of Sliiloh. All through those two days of strife, his coolness, 
energy, and skill never failed, although three horses were shot under him, and he 
was wounded in the hand. Grant said : " The first day, with raw troops, Sherman 
held the key-point of the Landing-, and it is to his own efforts that I am indebted 
for the success of that battle." Two weeks later he led the advance upon Cornith, 
which the enemy left after a month's siege. 

Meanwhile he w^as raised to the post of major-g-eneral. The events of war in 
this part of the country now moved on at a rapid rate, and General Sherman did 
many excellent services to the Northern side in the battles that took place in and 
about ]\Iississippi. At Vicksburg he led the first assault, in the latter part of 
May, 1863, and it was not for lack of skill or bravery that it failed, but simply 
because the place was too strong- to be taken by open assault, only sudden at- 
tack in an unexpected place or a regular siege could possibly take it. This last 
was successful after about two months. Then he took his forces forward ag-ainst 
one of Lee's generals and drove the Confederates out of the city of Jackson in two 
weeks, commanded a wing of the army at the battle of Chattanooga, and finall3^ 
started otf with a newly-formed column of troops to Meridian, Alabama, where 
he destroyed the enemy's depots and ai'senals as he had also done to the railroads 
along- the line. 

In March, 1864, Grant was removed to Virg-inia, and Sherman being appointed 
to take his old place, had charge of the division of the Mississippi, to which be- 
longed all the armies betAveen the Mississippi River and the Alleghany Mountains. 
His orders were to move against General Joseph E. Johnston, whose forces were 



William Tecuinseh Sherman. 



187 



splendidl}^ arranged to cover and protect the city of Atlanta, whxCh Avas the chief 
point at which Sherman was aiming- in order to carry the State of Georg-ia out of 
the hands of the Confederates. In May he begun tliis invasion, driving' General 
Johnston before him, from Dalton, Resaca, Cassville, and Dallas. One fortified 
post after another was taken, and the Southern Arni}^ was oblig-ed to fig-ht and 
retreat all summer ; and after many severe battles, in which the Confederates had 
g-reat losses, Sherman took possession of Atlanta on the 1st of September, 18G4. 




William Tecumseh Sherman. 

Meanwhile he had made a great name, and was promoted to the rank of. major- 
g-eneral in the reg-ular army. He left Atlanta and beg-an his famous "march to 
the sea," in the middle of November. As the Southern armies were then far 
away from the route that Sherman took, and there was nothing- to stop the prog-- 
ress of his march, a great deal more has been said about this exploit than, per- 
haps, it deserves ; but it was a peculiar and a daring undertaking. No one but 
the commander knew where thej^ were going. There was a long stretch of un- 
armed country through which he planned to make a rupid march southeastward 



188 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

to the city of Savannali by the siea. From there he would make his waj^ to dis- 
tant Yirg-inia and attack the rear of Lee's army. He burned the cit}^ of Atlanta, 
cut the teleg'raph wires to the North, and ordered the march, leaving- provisions 
behind. His forces were sixty tliousand picked veterans, and his way lay throug-h 
one of the lichest parts of the South, Avliere the ravag-es of war had not yet been. 

Not even his men knew his designs ; the country was filled witli curiosity' at 
the " wonderfid march," and report spread far and wide of the sallies after food 
tliat were made in vaiious directions, as they moved along-, and of the bands of 
neg-roes that clung* to the army as their g-reat deliverer, and above all of the per- 
fect confidence of the men in their leader and their willing-ness to g'o wherever he 
directed. As they marched along", the slaves flocked to the ranlcs from ever^' plan- 
tation and fai'ni. The women, carrying- tlieir babies in their arms and leading- the 
little ones, tramped for miles and miles by the side of the ranks. The3" were told 
that thej'" must g-o back and wait a little long-er, that there was not enough food 
in camp for so many to eat, but they could not be driven away, they would rather 
starve with them, in liberty, than g-o back to slavery. 

It was a g-lowing- picture, that will never fade from the pag-e of United States 
history, althoug-h it holds no very important place there. 

Finally the soldiers i-eached Ossabaw Sound, and Fort McAllister, which 
g-uarded the city of Savannah — then in the hands of the Confederates. The 
foi't was stormed and taken with a rush in fifteen minutes, and after a sieg-e of 
eig-ht days the city was also captured. This was in about the middle of December. 

Sherman remained in Savannah until the 1st of February, recruiting- his men, 
and g'etting- ready to beg-in the march northward to meet Grant and his arm3" at 
Richmond. In a little over two weeks, he reached Columbia and took possession 
of it. From there he went on to Fayetteville without meeting- any opposition, but 
soon after found that in front of him lay Joseph E. Johnston, whom he had foug'ht 
and beaten so many times on his first entrance into Georg-ia , Jefferson Davis, 
the Confederate President, liad ordered Johnston to collect all his forces and 
*' drive back Sherman," but Sherman was not to be driven any way, and, althoug-h 
Johnston and his men foug-ht so desperately at Goldsboro that for awhile it seemed 
doubtful which would win, Sherman was ag-ain the victor, and Johnston fell back 
to Raleig-h. 

While they were in these positions the news of Lee's surrender came. Sherman 
marched to Raleigh at once and Johnston surrendered upon the same terms ag-reed 
to hy Grant and Lee. He then marched his forces on to Washing-ton and took 
leave of them ; but in 1869, when Grant was elected President, he returned to 
them as g-eneral of the entire army. 

In November, 1871, he obtained leave of absence from the army and took a 



Robert Edmund Lee. 



189 



tour tlirougli Europe. At the eud of a year he returned and settled down at 
Washing-ton as Commander-in-Chief of the army. Later, when General Philip 
Sheridan took this post, he removed to St. Louis. 

General Sherman was born at Lancaster, Ohio, February 8, 1820. He died in 
New York City, February 14, 1891. 

Among- all the commanders in the Civil War, next to the military genius of 
General Grant ranked that of Kobert Ecliimiitl Lee. He, too, was a graduate 
of West Pomt, where he stood at the head of his class. He finished his course 




Robert Edmund Lee. 



there when twenty years old and was appointed lieutenant in a corps of engineers. 
For several years his work Avas establishing boundary lines and improving- har- 
bors and fortresses in various parts of the country, and when the Mexican War 
broke out he was made captain of the engineer corps of the army, under General 
Scott. His courage was equal to his skill, and, heedless of bullets and shells, he 
took columns to their places as calmly as he planned defenses and superintended 
the works. Once, when he was wounded at Chapultepec, he kept on carrying 
orders until he fainted from the effects of his wounds. His gallant service so dis- 
tinguished him among his comrades that General Scott made a personal friend of 



190 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

him and the Government promoted him three times, so that he held the rank of 
colonel at the close of the war. 

It is said that the daj^ after the taking- of Mexico, while the officers were having 
a g-ood time over their wine, some one proposed the health of Leo, the brave captain 
of the engineers, who had found the way for them into the city. On looking around 
they found that he was not among- them. Some one was sent to fetch him ami 
found him at last hard at woi'k over a map, which he could not be persuaded to 
leave. Duty before pleasui-e was always his motto. 

Four years after the close of the Mexican War he was made Superintendent of 
the Military Academy at West Point. Here he remained three ^^ears and then 
was made lieutenant-colonel of a regiment bound for Texas. His rank was next 
to that of the commanding- officer of the reg-iment, Albert Sydney Johnston. 
After remaiuing two years in Texas he obtained leave of absence to return to his 
home in Virginia. His wife, Avho was the daughter of General Washington's 
adopted son, George Washington Parke Custis, liad inherited the Washington 
estate on the Potomac, and Lee now spent two (piiet years at home. 

Meanwhile trouble was brewing in the country. Differences of interest and 
opinion between the North and the South were fast leading to blows. Virginia 
agreed with the other Southern States to leave the Union and with them fight for 
" States' Rights." Lee was obliged either to take up arms against his native 
State or to resign his position in the Union Army. It was far from his wishes to 
do either, but he decided to cleave to his State and sent in liis resignation. In 
writing to General Scott he said that he hoped he would never have to draw his 
sword again, but if he did it wovdd have to be in defense of his native State, since 
he could not make war upon her. General Scott and other distinguished friends 
urged him to remain with the Union. It is said that even President Lincoln offered 
him a high position in the army ; but he refused all requests, although he knew 
that if he joined the Southern Army there would be many to rank above him. He 
was opposed to the Southern States separating from the Union. He thought 
it was bad policy ; he said that if he owned a million of slaves he would 
gladly give them all to the Union, but his State had decided arid he must follow 
its lead. 

Soon the terrible conflict began. Lee was at first appointed major-general of 
the forces of Virginia, but was soon promoted to the third place among- the five 
leading generals of the Southern Army. 

He had no very important station during all of the first 3'^ear, being employed 
cliiefly to look after the coast defenses of South Carolina and Georgia. But in 
June, 1862, he took connnand of tlie army to defend Richmond, and succeeded iji 
beating back the Northern Army under the command of McClellan. He rose to 



Eobert Edmund Lee. 191 

cliief command through the death or disablement of higher oflacers, and he was 
not long- in power before he proved himself worthy of his post. 

" In the short space of two months," says one of the leading Confederate gen- 
erals, " with a force at no time over seventy-five thousand, he defeated in repeated 
engagements two Federal armies, each of which was not less than one hundred 
and twenty thousand strong, relieved the Southern capital from danger, and even 
threatened that of the North. Then, throwing his army into Maryland, he swept 
down on Harper's Ferry and captured it with its garrison of eleven thousand men 
and seventy- two guns." 

After this came the battle of Fredericksburg and more brilliant movements by 
Lee. Then Gi'ant came up to cope with him, backed by all the splendid forces of 
the North, while Lee had all his army in the field. For nine months this unequal 
contest was kept up, and the enemy held at bay — almost entirely, says one of Lee's 
companions, '* by the genius of this one man, aided by the valor of his little force, 
occupying a sti'etch of over thirty miles and spread out so thin that it was scarcely 
more than a respectable skirmish line." 

The want and sufferings of the Southern soldiers during these last few months 
of the war v/ere fully equal to those of Washington's men during the Revolution. 
Shoeless, hatless, ragged, and half-starved, they clung to their commander and 
their cause until only a handful were left. Powerless to help them, he could only 
suffer with them. Once, when he was invited to a grand dinner by some 
wealthy Southerners, he would not touch any but the plainest dishes, saying that 
he could not bear to be feasting while his soldiers were starving. 

His tenderness and kindness to all made him dearly loved by his men, and 
many touching stories are told of his goodness of heart. One day, while inspect- 
ing some batteries not far from the Union lines, the soldiers gathered around him 
so as to attract the fire of the enemy. Lee told the men that they had better go 
iiito the back-yard and not expose themselves to unnecessary danger. They did 
so, and when he had finished his work he followed. On his way back, while the 
bullets were whizzing past, he stopped in his quick walk to pick up a young- 
sparrow which had fallen out of its nest and put it back in the tree before he 
went on. 

There was a very strong friendship between Lee and Thomas Jonathan Jack- 
son, who IS often called "' Stonewall Jackson." Each had the greatest admiration 
for the other. Jackson said : " General Lee is a phenomenon. He is the only 
man I would follow blindfolded." 

Twice during the war Lee's generous nature shone out most strongly. Once 
it was at Chancellors ville after he had won the field. As he rode out in sight of 
his victorious troops they burst out in enthusiastic cheers all along the line. But 



192 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

he refused to take the credit of the victory ; he said it belonged to Jackson. Then 
again at Gettysburg in the hour of defeat. The battle was lost because some one 
had not obej^ed his orders, but not a word of blame did Lee utter. He took all of 
the responsibility upon himself. 

After the war was over Lee was offered several good positions ; one was in 
New York with a large salary, and one was to become President of the Washing- 
ton and Lee University at Lexington, Virginia. Although the latter offered him 
poorer pay than almost any of the other positions, he decided to accept it, because 
it seemed to him his duty. The future of the country, he thought, depends upon 
its 3^oung men. The South had an uncertain future, and there would be great 
need of good citizens. As president of a college he would become well acquainted 
with the future citizens of his State, and he could help to fit them for useful, noble 
lives. He had a difficult task before him, owing to the disturbed state of the 
country and the wild, disobedient spirit of the young people who had grown up 
without much training during the war — for the conflict had scattered homes and 
broken up families throughout a large part of the South. One of his chief cares 
was to keep them from cruelty to the negroes and from violent outbreaks against 
any one connected with the North. Lee himself was very free from resentment 
towards the Union States, and he did a great deal to give his pupils fair and 
peaceable ideas. He did not govern his college like an army. He was as capable 
of being a kind and generous school-manager as of maintaining strict army disci- 
pline, and when his death came suddenl}^, he was as sincerely mourned for a noble 
and upright Christian gentleman as a leader of armies and winner of battles. 

Robert E. Lee was born at Stratford, Virginia, June 19, 1807. He died at 
Lexington in the same State, October 12, 1870. 

Thomas Jonathan Jackson was also a Virginian, who graduated from 
West Point and was sent fresh from the Academy into the midst of the Mexican 
War the year it broke out — that is, in 1846. He soon won the rank of first lieuten- 
ant. After the war was over he helped to build the forts about New York Harbor 
and then went to Florida to take part in settling the troubles with the Seminole 
Indians. Soon after this — in 1852 — he was chosen one of the instructors in the 
Virginia Military Academy at Lexington, where the Washington and Lee Univer- 
sity was afterwards established. He taught natural philosophy and military 
tactics. He made a good teacher, but he was so very bashful that the students 
used to have a great deal of fun about him. 

He had very strong opinions about States' rights, and as soon as the war broke 
out he enlisted at once in the Confederate Army, where he was made a colonal and 
placed in command at Harper's Ferry. From that moment all his shyness left 



Tliomas Jonathan Jackson. 



193 



him. He took the lead with his men, as if he had always been a commander, 
trained to dignity, discipline, and authority. 

When he had been three months in the army he was called to take part in the 
first great battle of the war — that of Bull Run, which was fought July 21, 1861, 
between the armies of General P. G. T. Beauregard of the South, and General 
Irwin McDowell of the North. During the battle some of the heavy charges 
from the North made the Southern lines waver, but Jackson and his men stood 
firm. One of his fellow-officers caught sight of him and exclaimed to his own men, 
*' See Jackson standing there like a stone wall ! " From that time he was called 




Thomas Jonathan Jackson. (Stonewall.) 

"Stonewall Jackson;" but it is also said that his troops were first called "the 
Stonewall Brigade " because they came from the stone wall counties of Virginia. 

In September, after the conflict at Bull Run, Jackson was made a major-gen- 
eral ; in January he was sent North to keep General Banks occupied and prevent 
him from making any serious movements. He harassed the Union forces all he 
could, but did not dare to risk any open battles because he had not enough men. 
In March twenty thousand more were added to his force ; then he was ready to 
fight. 

In the meantime the Northern Army had been divided. General McClellan 
with the greater part had started for Richmond by water. Another body under 



194 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

General McDowell set out for the same place by land, and another under General 
Banks was ordered to march down to Manassas and to scour the Shenandoah valley. 
But General Jackson soon stopped the scouring" by falling- upon General Banks at 
Strasburg, Virginia, where he not only beat him in short order, but chased him 
all the way up to the Potomac. 

When the people at Washing-ton lieard of tliis they were greatly alarmed, antl 
McDowell, who had set out to join McClellan, liastened back to protect the capital. 
This was exactly what the Southern people wanted, for with ]\IcDowell up at 
Washington it would be easier to keep McClellan away from Richmond. This 
was the next thing to be done, and Jackson immediately started to help Lee do it. 
The news of his raids and also of his approach to Richmond made McClellan very 
much afraid that he did not have men enough to fight so dang-erous a foe, and 
finally induced him to give up his purpose for the time. Jackson reached the 
place just in time to help Lee drive him away. Two battles were foug-ht while th(^ 
Northern Army was retreating-, one at Gaines' Mills and one at Malvern Hill, 
neither of which were decidedly won by either army ; but they favored the South, 
for McClellan kept falling- back to the James River. Here Jackson left him and 
started north ag-ain, where another larg-e Union army had been raised and sent 
into Virginia under General Pope. 

While on his way to meet this new force, Jackson came across his old enemy, 
General Banks, at Cedar Mountain. There they had a battle in which Banks was 
badly beaten. Jackson huri'ied on and in two weeks more surprised a part of 
Pope's army at Manassas Junction, captured a larg-e quantity of g-uns and pro- 
visions, and then moved on to the rest of the Northern Army, which was stationed 
on the old Bull Run battlefield. Here, August 28th, occurred the second battle 
of Bull Run, the victory all on Jackson's side. The next morning-, bi'ig-ht and early, 
he was up and away ag-ain. On the lOtli of September he was at Martinsville, 
helping himself to a good stock of ammunition and provisions which the Union 
Army had left on hearing of his approach. He followed them to Harper's Ferry, 
stormed the place, and, without waiting- to receive the surrender — only making- 
sure that it must come — went on to rejoin General Lee. The morning: of September 
17th he was ready to take an important part in the battle of Antietam. Lee said 
that w^hatever credit there was due to the South in this eng-agement belong-ed to 
Jackson. But this was hardly just to himself. 

From the close of this battle imtil April Jackson was busy preparing- official 
reports and liad no part upon the field. Then, May 2d, he engaged in his last 
battle at Chancellorsville, Virginia. His victorious troops again made fearful 
havoc among the Northern ranks. With one of his quick, imexpected attacks, he 
surprised a large force and routed them in terrible confusion. Jackson was every- 



Joseph Eggleston Johnston. 195 

where in the thickest of the fight. Nig-ht came on, and as lie and his aids g^alloped 
back to the camp, his own troops mistoolv them for enemies and fired upon tliem. 
Jackson was badly wounded and eight days afterward he died. His loss w^as a 
terrible blow to the South. Lee said that his rig-ht arm was g-one. 

As a general, Jackson had few equals. He had wonderful power over his men ; 
he w^as perfectly fearless, but not reckless ; he saw when he could strike a telling- 
blow and never hesitated to do it ; but he also saw when the case was hopeless, and 
would not risk the lives of his men. His most brilliant charges were made after 
careful planning and close calculation of his own and his enemy's forces. As a 
man he was modest, uprig'ht, and remarkably pure-minded. His loss, it has been 
said, was the g-reatest that either j)arty had yet had, in the fall of a single man. 

General Thomas J. Jackson w^as born at Clarksburg-, Virginia, January 21, 
1824. He died at Guinea's Station, in the same State, May 10, 1863. 

Among the military students who graduated from West Point with Lee, in 
1829, was Joseph Eggleston Johnston, another young- Virg-inian. He also 
became a civil engineer — giving- his attention to the map-making branch of the 
work — and was ready to take a hand in active fighting when there was need of it. 
In the war with the Florida Indians he fought so well that he was made a captain. 

After that he went on with the surveying and map-making, and in 1843 helped 
surve}^ the boundary line between the United States and the British Provinces. 
When that was done he spent two years making surveys of our sea-coast. Then 
came the Mexican War, and in General Scott's list of officers Jolmston's name 
was put down as captain of the topographical or map-making engineers. He took 
part in all the active fighting in Mexico, and was twice wounded. His skill and 
bravery so distinguished him that he had several promotions — to major, then to 
lieutenant-colonel, finally he was made colonel. 

After the peace with Mexico, his engineering work was chiefly in surveys and 
river improvements, until the outbreak of the Civil War. Then he resigned from 
the Government and entered the Confederate Army. At the beginning of the 
condict he was one of the four generals who held rank above Lee, having- command 
of the Confederate Army of Virginia. 

The first battle of Bull Run would probably have been gained by the Union 
side but for Johnston, who came up with ten thousand fresh troops just as the 
Confederates were being- driven back, and beg-an pouring his new men in upon the 
enemy till they were panic-stricken and fled toward Washington in great disorder. 

In May of the next year Johnston thought that the chances of war had favored 
liim with a happ3^ accident, for while he was being- chased toward Richmond by 
the Union Army, under General McClellan, the sudden swelling of the Cliicka- 



106 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

hoininy divided the Northerners into two parts. One portion was already ovei 
the stream, while the heavj^ storm prevented the rest from following:. Thong-h 
some distance ahead of them, Johnston learned what had happened and tnrned 
back to attack the small body which had crossed. On the first day he was quite 
successful in beating- them back from the Richmond road, but on the second day he 
was wounded and his men were vanquished by the little body of McClellan's army. 

The chance proved to Johnston a most unhappy one, for it was six months be- 
fore he was able to enter the field again. He returned just as Grant was getting- 
a firm hold at Vicksburg-, and was ordered to drive him away. But before he 
reached that station he was forced by General Sherman to back up into Georg-ia. 
Behind him lay Atlanta, which, next to Richmond, was the city that the Union 
side most desired to capture. 

The countr^^ between was very mountainous, full of deep gullies, woods, and 
ravines, which made it easier to hold than to take. But Johnston's army was 
much smaller than Sherman's, so that the difficulties were about evenly divided. 
Johnston made several stands, but Sherman found a way of slipping- around his 
side and forcing- him to fall back still further toward Atlanta if he would try to 
defend it. It was an interesting- game of war that these two g-reat g-enerals 
played during- these weeks. Not many heavy battles were fought, but Johnston 
steadily lost ground . Some say that Johnston allowed Sherman to advance on pur- 
pose, knowing- that each station he left behind him took a number of his soldiers, 
and that the further Sherman advanced the greater were his own chances of beat- 
ing- him hi a final battle, which he would fight before the}^ reached Atlanta. But 
he was not able to carry out this plan, for just as he was readj'^ to fight his deci- 
sive battle, the Confederate President, Jefferson Davis, told him to hand his forces 
over to General Hood, who foug-ht the battle and lost it ; so Sherman was able to 
nu^ve into Atlanta. 

But by February of the next year, when, after leaving- Atlanta and making- his 
march to the sea, Sherman came sweeping- up toward Raloig-h, President Davis 
liad learned that if he had any general able to cope with Sherman, it was Jolms- 
ton, so he sent him out again to meet or spoil the plans of his old enemy. But 
there was probably no army in the country a match for Shei-man's veterans, and 
after a long-, hard battle, Johnston was defeated at Goldsboro, North Carolina. 

While they were resting after the fight, news came that Lee had surrendered 
to Grant. Sherman then pushed on to Raleigh and took possession, and Johnston 
surrendered upon the same terms that Lee had yielded to Grant. In his fare- 
well speech to his troops he entreated them to observe faithfully the terms of 
peace agreed upon, and to discharge the obligations of good and peaceful citizens 
as well as they had performed the duties of thorough soldiers in the field. 



David Glascoe Farragut. 197 

Since the close of the war General Johnston has lived at Savannah, Georgia, 
and has taken an active part in improving- the industries of the South. He has 
been especially connected with the farming interests, commerce and railroad en- 
terprises. He has also written a book upon his military operations during the war. 

General Joseph E, Jolmston was born in Prince Edward County, Virginia, in 
February, 1807. He died in Washington, D.C., March 21, 1891. 

The great admiral of the Civil War was David Gljiscoe Farra8:iit, a res- 
olute soldier, a brave seaman, and a noble gentleman. When he was a lad 
eleven years old, he first entered the country's service on board Captain Porter's 
famous Essex, in the War of 1812. He was only a midshipman when this vessel 
captured His Majest^^'s sloop of war, the Alert, but he behaved so well during the 
great excitement of the short fight, that the captain reported him after the cap- 
ture and said that his bravery and good service deserved promotion, although tlie 
boy was too young to receive it. But Farragut was rewarded in another wa}^ — 
by the captain's interest and friendship, which was of more value to him then 
than advances in the navy. He needed more education and his great friend se- 
cured a place for him in a school at Chester, Pennsylvania, where he could study 
naval and military science. 

After about a year he was sent with a number of other students to the Medi- 
terranean in a naval ship. On this cruise a strong friendship grew up between 
young Farragut and one of the teachers, a Mr. Fulsome, who was soon after ap- 
pointed Consul to Tunis and obtained permission to take his favorite pupil with 
him. Here they studied history together and talked over the deeds of the gi^eat 
Hannibal as they walked over the very place where that warrior had promised 
his father that he would never lay down his arms against Rome. 

Farragut remained at Tunis a year ; then was appointed a lieutenant in the 
navy, and ordered to the West Indies. Three years afterward he was sent to 
take charge of the navy yard at Norfolk, Virginia. There he married and re- 
mained for a number of years. He spent all his spare time in studying, not only 
naval science, but several of the languages. By and by, when a still more im 
portant place was in need of a commander, Farragut was named as being better 
fitted to take charge of it than any man in the service. So he was soon sent out 
to the Mai^e Island navy yard in California, where he remained from 1854 to 1858. 

During the exciting days after the declaration of the Civil War, he was at his 
home again in Norfolk, anxiously wishing to see which way his State would go, 
but when it seceded he could not follow. To him the right side was that of the 
Union. He could not fight against the old flag under which he had served for 
almost fifty years. So when the news came that the Virginia Legislature 



198 One Hundred Famous Anierivans. 

had decided to unite with the- Confederation and cut h)ose from tlic Union, Farra- 
i^ut hastily ])a('lved up a few of liis household i;oods, })ut a brace of pistols in his 
l^ocket, and left Norfolk with his Avife and child. He came North, found a quiet 
home for his family at Hastini;s-on-tlie-Hudson, and leaving- them there went on 
to Washinii;ton, to offer his services to the country. 

At that time all the ships of the United States Navy were away in foreii^n 
ports, so the Government could give him nothing- to do, hut they told him to wait 
in I'eadiness for the first charge they could give him. It was nine months before 
this came. Then he was put in command of seventeen gi'eat war-ships and ordered 
to capture New Oi-leans. 

This Avas no easy matter, for New Orleans was very strongly defended. In 
Revolutionary times two great forts, Jackson and St. Philip, had been built, one 
on each side of the Mississippi River, sixty miles below the city. They had kept 
the Rrit ish out of the " Father of Waters " eighty years before, and still they stood 
in strength and fastness. Farragut was told that several ofllcers in the French 
and English navies — good judges of defenses — hatl said that it would be impossi- 
ble for any fleet to pass these forts. He replied : "It may be so, but I was sent 
here (MtluM- to take these forts or pass them, and I mean to try." Among- the olli- 
cers in the fleet was Conunodore Porter, son of the old captain under whom Far- 
ragut had served when he first entered the navy. Together they devised and car- 
ried out a plan for disguising the squadron before setting- sail for the forts. This 
was a trick that old Commander Poi-ter used often to tr^-, and both the younger 
connnanders were apt pupils. They painted the outside of the gunboats with mud 
so that they looked nuich like the muddy gromid they were passing and could not 
be easily seen in the distance. The masts they twined with foliage like the forests 
along the river, and as they came nearer to the forts they bound marsh-weeds to 
the sides of the vessels. 

At last they were Avithin firing distance of Fort Jackson and turned their great 
guns toward it. The boats kept up ahnost a contimmus fire upon the fort for a 
Aveek, and still it shoAved no signs of surrendering. Tlu>n Farragut decided to try 
the dangerous task of running past it. He ordered e\'erything to be got ready 
and at two o'clock in the morning of April *24th, he gave the signal for starting — 
t.AVO red lights hoisted on the nuist of his flag-ship, the Hartford. As the boats 
moA'cd silently up the river, Farragut- lashed himself to the mast of his ship so 
that he might be able to see aboA-e the smoke Avhen the battle begun. A loud roar 
from the cannon of the fort soon told them that they had been discovered. Tavo 
bright beacons had been kept burning on shore, throwing- a strong light across the 
river, througli Avhich it AA-^as impossible for the ships to pass Avithout being clearly 
seen. As soon as their proAVs touched the clear, shining path across the waters, 



David Glascoe Farragut. 



199 



alarm was given. Signals blazed up from all points along- the shore and every 
g'un of the fort began to pour out its deadly fii'o, while the fleet, keeping steadily 
on, pounnl out their shot and shell incessnntly, till the whole i^lace was shrouded 
with volumes of smoke. Five I'afts came down upon them and set the Hartford 




David Glascoe Farragut. 

ablaze, but the active company of firemen soon put the fire out, and at last the 
fleet was past the fort. 

But they were not yet safe, for they suddenly found themselves in a perfect 
nest of fire-rafts and gunboats, among which was the terrible iron-clad ram, 
Manassas. A desperate battle of an hour and a half settled the question, the 
Southern fleet was destroyed ; thirteen of Farragut's vessels had passed the forts, 
and the way to New Oi-leans was open. 



200 One Hundred Fmnous Americans. 

Tliis was one of the most terrible naval battles ever foug-ht. Farra^ut said : 
" It was one of the most awful sights and events I ever saw or expected to 
see. The smoke was so dense that it was only now and then you could see any- 
thing but the flash of the cannon and the fire-ships or rafts." 

He moved on to New Orleans directly, and forced the surrender of the city, 
completing the main object of his expedition. This was, altog-ether, one of the 
most important victories of the war, and Congress rewarded the leader by creat- 
ing for him the office of Vice-Admiral of the United States Navy. 

The day after the surrender he sailed on up the Mississippi to Vicksburg' and 
stormed that place, but it was too strong to be carried without help from land 
forces, so he went down the river ag-ain and put up at Pensacola for repairs. 

As soon as the fleet was ag"ain ready he crossed the Gulf of Mexico, took Gal- 
veston, Corpus Christi, and the Sabine Pass, and broke the power of the Southern 
navy in that vicinity. 

Another order to g^o to Vicksburg- was g-iven in March of the next year. This 
time he went to work with g-ood aid on land, for General Grant's forces were 
already drawn up near by. Two vessels were carried past the fort below the city 
and thus beset by a g-reat g"enerai on land and the vice-admiral on the river, 
General Pemberton was compelled to yield the city. 

In midsummer the Government sent Farragut's fleet to take Mobile and stop 
the way of the blockade-runners who were planning- to get up into the Southwest 
territory through Mobile Bay. This was guarded by Fort Morgan, Fort Gaines, 
and a powerful iron-clad ram and three gunboats, that lay a little further in the 
bay. Farragut's fleet of fourteen wooden steamers and gunboats and four iron- 
clad monitors, passed Fort Morgan and met the Oonfederate vessels in one of the 
fiercest naval battles on record. The commander was again lashed to the rigging 
of the Hartford, where he could see everything that took place and direct the 
terrible conflict which only closed with the Confederates' surrender. In a few 
days after this victory the Union armies took the forts, and the blockade-runners 
were effectually shut out. 

For this another new rank was created in the navy making him a full admiral. 
He made two voyages after the war, but from the second one he never returned 
home. 

Admiral Farragut was born near Knoxville, Tennessee, July 5, 1801. He died 
at Portland, Maine, August 14, 1870. 



PIONEERS AND EXPLORERS. 



THE first successful Eng-lish settlement in the land that afterward became the 
United States was made at Jamestown, Virginia, in the very first part of 
the last century. 

The chief mover in this enterprise was Bartholomew Gosnold, an Eng-- 
lish voyag-er who had joined Raleigh in his first attempt to found a colony in Vir- 
ginia in the year 1585. He had afterward led a colony into Buzzard's Bay, in Mas- 
sachusetts, eighteen years before the Pilgrims found their way to Plymouth Rock. 
He named Cape Cod and Martlia's Vineyard while coasting around before he se- 
lected the place for his settlement. His little colony did not stay long-. They g"rew 
disheartened by their trouble with the Indians and the scarcity of provisions, and 
finally Captain Gosnold had them load up their ships with sassafras, and returned 
with thein to England. He made this voyage by a new route, past the Azores, 
which saved fifteen hundred miles of sailing and a week's time. 

Far from discouraged himself, in recounting his voyage to the King he set 
forth the advantages of the distant land with the desire of being allowed to return 
as soon as possible. He began at once to gather another band to go back with 
him. He helped to organize the two great companies — called the London and the 
Plymouth — and soon after set sail with John Smith and several other companions 
to make a settlement in Virginia. 

They reached the Chesapeake and, entering the bay, named the pomts of Cape 
Henry and Cape Charles in honor of the King's sons, while the peninsula about 
fifty miles further on, which they chose for the site of their settlement, they called 
Jamestown, and the Powhatan River of the Indians they christened the James — 
both in loyal reinembrance of their monarch. 

They selected the site of their settlement on the 13th of May, 1607, and began 
at once to establish themselves and to make their explorations. Part of them be- 
gan to fell trees, and clear the site for their dwellings, while another portion set 
off in shallops to begin to fill the King's commission to discover the water-ways 
that were supposed to lead through Virginia to the Pacific. 



202 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Gosnold did not live to see the colony established. The damp, liiihealthy 
climate, the exposure and poor provisions, soon brought on sickness among- the 
company, and he was among the lirst of the fifty men who died almost at the out- 
set of their labors. 

After this the compan3' suffered still more ill-fortunes — cliiefl^^ from quarrels 
among themselves — and at last it was onl^'" a small portion of the original band 
that remained to make their settlement a lasting one. 

By this time, the leading man in the colony was John Smith. He was well 
fitted for this position ; for, although he had manj^ faults as a man, he was so in- 
spiring and energetic a pioneer that he succeeded in bringing peace and then pros- 
perity into the tried, disheartened, and rebellious little company, so that by the 
time winter was fairly come, they were ready to go on with their explorations. 

Smith was an adventurer by nature, and he had had many a wild experience 
before coming- to America. He had spent several years fighting with the Turks 
in Europe — had been "captured by them and sent as a slave to Constantinople. 
From there he was sent to the sea of Azov with a letter, where he managed to 
make his escape by killing- his master, donning his clothes, and riding away on 
his horse to the Russian camp. The Russians helped him back to Transylvania, 
where in token of his former services against the Turks, his losses were made good. 

This done. Smith returned to England, just at the time everybody was talking 
about the New World, the prospect of finding in it an abundance of gold, and 
the King's willingness to make settlements there. He was interested at once. 
America offered just the kind of adventure he liked ; and with Gosnold and a cou- 
ple of other men, he went eagerly to work to start a company for colonizing the 
other side of the globe. 

It took a yeai- to make all the preparations, but at last everything was read3^ 
A company of over one hundred men had agreed to g-o, and a charter had been 
obtained from King James, who also gave them a sealed box containing his in- 
structions about the form of government to be used, the councillors to be in com- 
mand, and what explorations he required of them. 

When the box was opened after the colonists reached America, and it Avas 
found that John Smith's name appeared among the councillors, he was not allowed 
to take the office ; for the voyageurs had fallen into jealous quarrels on their way 
over, and Smith — being a spirited, energetic man — had been accused by several of 
his companions of mtending to make himself king of Virginia. He was even kept 
bound until he was needed to help in the work of clearing the ground and build- 
ing the forts. Then they released him, and he went earnestly to work at once, 
biding his time for the redress of his wrongs. At one time, he was sent out 
among the savages to secure their friendship and buy corn ; and at another the 



John Smith. 



203 



jealous coimcillors decided to send him to England to be tried for his alleged 
treason. But he refused to go, and said if he were accused of treason he would be 




CJaptain John Smith. 
tried then and there. The result was that he was not only cleared from all 
charges, but the president was obliged to pay him damages for depriving him of 
his liberty. This money he handed over at once to be used for the colony. Then 
he was permitted to take his place among the councillors. 



204 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Soon after this the ship which had brought the party returned to England, and 
as the hot weather came, as their provisions ran low, and sickness broke out, it was 
a jaded and unhapj)y band, striving- in what was almost a forlorn hope. At one 
time there were only ten well men among them. Fifty of them died before the 
summer was over ; and then there were other troubles. The president of the set- 
tlement was found dishonest and removed; the man chosen to take his place 
was not capable of governing, the others were sick, so at last the care of the colony 
fell upon Smith. This was the most fortunate thing that ever happened to that 
suffering little band. He soon had all the men that were able to work busy improv- 
ing their cabins ; he managed very adroitly to turn the threatening hostility of 
the savages into admiration, if not awe of the whites, and thus had no difficulty in 
buying their corn, and in gaining kindnesses from them which probably saved the 
whole expedition from complete failure. 

As soon as he had provided for the pressing needs of the colony Smith started 
out with two Englishmen and two Indian guides to explore the great wilderness 
that lay all about them. He had not gone far before he was taken captive 
and would have been slain if he had not thought to arouse the curiosity of his cap- 
tors by showing them his pocket-compass. Instead of killing him they then took 
him aroand among the tribes and exhibited him as a wonder. But when he was 
brought to Powhatan that great chief made up his mind he was an enemy and 
ordered him to be slain. It was at this time, just as a savage was about to bring 
the fatal war-club down upon his head, that Pocahontas, the twelve-year-old 
daughter of Powhatan, rushed between Smith and the Indian and begged her 
father to spare his life. He granted her request, set the captive at liberty, and 
ordered twelve of his warriors to escort him back to Jamestown. 

Smith found the settlement in great disorder, the food all gone, and the people 
determined to go back to England as soon as thej'' could. His return, however, 
brought hope. He told them he could obtain food and keep them cheerful and able 
to work. In a little while Newport, who had taken their vessel back to England, 
returned with a ship-load of supplies and over a hundred new settler's. All might 
now have gone well but for an excitement that broke out upon the finding of some 
yellow mica which the settlers thought was gold. There was no more work done 
then but digging for gold, A whole ship-load of it was sent to Europe, and every 
settler imagined himself a rich man until they learned what a foolish mistake 
they had made. Smith left them to their useless schemes — he knew they had not 
found gold — and set out upon another exploring expedition. This time he was 
more successful than before. He made several trips, once going as far as 
the jDresent State of Ohio, and always drawing careful maps of the country he 
passed through. It was not until after his return from this trip in September, 1G08, 



John Smith. 205 

that he was elected president of the council, though he had been the only acting- 
president of the colony for a long- time. 

When Newport returned from England, which was soon after this election, he 
brought the news that the colonists' "gold" was worthless dirt. It was just 
what Smith had told them, and they were, after this, more willing to believe in his 
judgment. Newport also brought other news. The authorities sent orders to 
Smith to send them some real gold and to find a passage through the new coun- 
try to the South Sea. He answered by sending back some good lumber and 
specimens of tar and pitch which he told them could be found in larg-e quantities. 
This was most too mattei--of-fact an answer to the high expectations of the mem- 
bers of the London Council. They therefore obtained a new charter from the king 
and had another governor appointed, one who would make some efforts to obtain 
gold instead of spending- his time exploring the country, examining its resources, 
and forcing the gentlemen who went over to look for gold to dig and plant and 
fell trees like ordinary laborers. 

Nine vessels were now fitted out and over five hundred emigrants set sail for 
Virginia. The newly appointed governor not being ready to come with them 
sent a deputy to take his place for a time. But the deputy did not reach Virginia 
in more than a year. A storm wrecked his and another vessel off Bermuda ; and, 
drifting to the coast of the island, they were obliged to stay there until they could 
repair their ships. The other seven ships reached Virginia, carrying more gentle- 
men gold-seekers, who added greatly to Smith's difficulties. Before he could 
bring them to believe that it was better to work than to starve, he met with a 
misfortune which compelled him to leave them to their fate. Some powder, ex- 
ploding by accident one day, injured him so severely that he had to set sail at 
once for England, where he could receive proper medical treatment. 

Left to themselves the colonists — especial]}^ the new ones — spent their time 
in idleness, roving, and doing whatever they wished ; they neglected the work that 
had been so carefully started, and, worst of all, were so insolent to the Indians 
that they could no longer buy corn of them. Soon their food was gone, and when 
the deputy-governor arrived from Bermuda he found only sixty wretched, half- 
starved men left in the settlement. 

For a long time after Captain Smith's return to England, he was obliged to 
keep quiet on account of his wounds, so he began to study and to write accounts 
of his travels and make a history of the settlement of Virginia, with a map of the 
country. 

When he was able, he came again to the New World. This was five years after 
he had left Jamestown ; but he did not return to Virginia. His course was far- 
ther north. Coasting along the north-east shores, he made a map of the country — 



306 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

which he named New England — and carried home full accounts of all he had seen 
there. The next year, 1615, he set out with two vessels and a little band of set- 
tlers, but they were all captured by a French ship and taken to La Rochelle. After 
awhile Captain Smith escaped from here, and, reaching- Eng-land in safety, left it 
no more. The rest of his life was spent in writing- a book, called " New England's 
Trials," and in traveling about the country, selling it and trying to interest peo- 
ple in making settlements in America. 

John Smith was born at Willoughby, Lincolnshire, England, in 1579. He died 
in London, England, in 1631. 

The most important colony that settled in New England wa'. a band of Pil- 
grims, who, driven from their native land on account of their religion, first 
sojourned in Holland, and then embarked for America. They landed at the place 
which John Smith had already named Plymouth, on the 21st of December, 1620. 

The leaders were the courageous, energetic soldier, Miles Staudish, 
who was the military leader of the Pilgrims in their wars against the Indians ; 
John Carver, who was chosen governor after the landing, and managed 
the affairs of the colony with care and wisdom for the four months that he 
lived ; and William Bradford, who was elected governor after Carver's death, 
and held that office for over thirty years. But probably the greatest man among 
the New England settlers was Roger Williams, who did not come to America 
until a little more than ten years after the Pilgrims landed. He was a scholarly 
young Welsh clergyman, who had been educated for the Church of England at 
Oxford University, but had become a Puritan of the stanchest kind. He was 
already quite famous, and at first the people welcomed him and his wife very cor- 
dially. But they soon felt that he was not severe enough in his ideas, so he had 
to leave Boston, and went to Salem. There, too, he made enemies because he did 
not think just like the authorities did about some church affairs, and he was 
forced to leave that place also. One of his great " errors " was that he said the 
authorities had no right to punish any people for not going to church or for want- 
ing in their way the liberty that the Puritans themselves had come so far to 
secure. The Salem people were very angry at him when they sent him away, but 
after a couple of years he was called back and was installed as pastor of their 
church. 

Meanwhile he had been at Plymouth, and had become well acquainted Avith the 
Indians, learning their language, and also some of their grievances. He boldly 
said that the King of England had no right to give away their land to white 
people, without first paying them for it. This and the freedom with which he 
still spoke his mind about the rulers and magistrates having no right to interfere 



Roger' Williams. 207 

with the reUg-ious beliefs of tlie people were more tlian the rigid Pilgrims could stand, 
and before long- they said so, and gave him just six weeks in wiiich to leave the col- 
ony. This time was afterward lengthened to several months. Williams improved 
•it by spreading- his doctrine as fast as he could and announcing that he himself 
would start a colony in which people might believe as seemed to them right and 
not after the law of any council. 

The rulers heard of this and decided to send him at once to England, but they 
did not succeed in doing- so ; for he was warned by his friends just in time to make; 
his escape. It was in the middle of a bleak, cold New England winter ; but there 
was no time to lose, and so, leaving- wife and children behind in safety, he fled from 
Salem to find refuge in the wilderness. Snow lay thick upon the ground, marked 
here and there with the footprints of wild beasts. He could hear their voices, too, 
at night as he crouched in the shelter of some hollow tree or lay in the smoky hut 
of some of the friendly Indians, from whom he also begged his food. " They 
were," he said, " the ravens that fed me in the wilderness." 

In his other exile at Plymouth,Williams had known Massasoit, the great Indian 
king ; he had then made him presents and shown him much kindness, for he felt 
that the white men owed a good deal to the red Americans wiiose country they 
had taken possession of. Remembering this former friendship he now went to 
Massasoit in his distress. 

The great chief had not forgotten his kindness and welcomed him right royally 
to his camp. In the spring he gave him a tract of land by the side of the Seekonk 
River near the place now known as Manton's Cove, and here the fugitive 
preacher resolved to make his home. 

He had left Salem all alone, but five others had now joined him and together 
they began to build a cabin and plant corn. But soon word came that they were 
still on Plymouth soil. Governor Winthrop, who was secretly a friend to 
Williams, sent a letter advising him to move to the other side of the water, where 
he might have the whole country before him and be as free as themselves. 

So, in a short time, he took leave of his fields of sprouting corn and his vmfin- 
ished cabin and with his five companions set out in a canoe in search of a place 
where he could establish a free government, and afford a home to those who were 
persecuted because of their opinions. 

At last a favorable place was found on the west side of the peninsula near the 
mouth of the Moshassuck River — the place where the city of Providence now 
stands. Roger Williams gave it this name "because," he said, "of a sense of 
God's merciful providence unto me in my distress." 

When he drew up the plan of government for the new settlement he resolved 
to have it a liberal one. Providence he desired should be "a shelter for persons 



208 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

distressed for conscience." All who should come to live there would be asked to 
promise obedience to laws for the public good, but "only in civil things." In 
religion their own consciences should be their laws. 

The settlement was hardly begun before Williams had a chance to heap coals 
of fire on the heads of the magistrates who had driven him from Salem. The 
Pequot Indians had made an attack on some of the settlers and were trying to 
induce the Narragansetts — a very large and powerful tribe — to join them in a 
general massacre of all the white people of the Plymouth Colony. When the ru- 
lers heard of this they were in great fright. Peace must be made with the red men 
in some way, or the Pilgrims would be entirel,y destroyed. There was but one 
white man in the country who knew these Indians well enough to have any influ- 
ence with them. That was Roger Williams. So they sent to him — away out 
in the wilderness to which he had fled from their persecutions but a short time 
before — and begged him to go to the camp of the Narragansetts and induce them 
not to join the Pequots. 

It was a bold request to make of a man on whom they had turned as an enemy, 
especially as he would have to risk his life if he undertook the journey ; but Roger 
Williams was too noble to refuse even this sacrifice for the sake of so many 
others, and he lost no time in setting out. He found the Pequots already there, 
when he reached the dwellings of the Narragansetts, and their stirring appeals to 
their kindred to rise and kill the white men who were fast robbing them of their 
hunting-grounds and the burial-places of their fathers had almost persuaded the 
cooler Narragansetts to join them. Williams went at once to the dwelling of the 
sachems and spent three days and three nights in company with the treacherous 
Pequots, whom he expected every night would put their " bloody knives to his 
throat." But the friendship he had formed with the Narragansetts was a strong 
one. They respected his counsels, and finally, with the Mohicans, another strong 
tribe, agreed to make a treaty with the English against the Pequots. 

That tribe soon opened war, and in the wretched conflict, which lasted four 
years, the magistrates depended almost entirely upon Williams for advice and for 
keeping the peace with the friendly Indians, and it was chiefly due to him that 
the war was at last brought to an end successful to the colonists. Yet, when Gov- 
ernor Winthrop moved that he be recalled from banishment and some mark of 
favor be shown him for his services, the authorities refused to do it, and a few 
years later they even refused to allow the colony of Providence to join those of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven in a league for mutual 
protection against the Dutch and French. The only allies of this little band of refu- 
gees were the Indians. Even with them it needed very skillful managing to keep 
from an outbreak on account of the wrongs they suffered from the other colonies. 



Roger Williams. 



309 



At leng-th the people of Providence decided to look to the mother country for 
protection. They sent Williams to England to procure for them a charter which 
would define their boundaries and forbid the other colonies from interfering with 
them, Massachusetts had already begun to dictate to them as though they were 
under her control, and none of them felt quite willing to let them alone. Williams 
sailed in the summer of 1643 from New York, and in a little more than a year 
returned with the charter and the good wishes of the mother country. 

The next few years were very busy ones for Williams. Many of the colonists 
were dissatisfied with the government which the new charter instituted. The Ind- 




RoaEE Williams. 



ians were troublesome, owing to insults which they received from the united col- 
onies of Massachusetts and Connecticut. These colonies still treated the people 
of Rhode Island contemptuously whenever they had a chance. They went so far 
as to arrest three citizens of Newport who went to Lynn to visit an old friend, and 
had them fined and imprisoned. 

At length it became necessary for Rhode Island to have a new charter in 
order to settle the difficulties that were constantly coming up between the towns 
on the mainland and those on the island. Williams was begged to go again to 
England, and finally consented, though he had to sell his trading-house to do so. 



210 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

The colonists were nob only unable to support their preacher and governor and his 
family, but actually tried in vain to raise money enough to pay his expenses when 
he went across the ocean on tlieir own alTairs. 

When he reached Eng'hmd the g-overnment was in such great disorder that he 
could do scarcel^'^ anything for his colony for some time. But he did not wait in 
idleness. Being- an excellent scholar, he easily found pupils, and by teaching lan- 
guag-es to several young- men, he earned money enough to pay the cost of his trip. 
Beside these duties, he wrote pamphlets, and spent a good deal of time in trying to 
I'clieve the sufferings of the poor miners, wdio were then out of work because of tlui 
tumult of the times. He became acquainted with Cromwell, who was then the 
" Protector '' of England ; with Sir Henry Vane, a wise and infliiential statesman ; 
and with the ardent Puritan patriot, John Milton, who had not yet written his 
g-reat poem of " Paradise Lost," nor lost the use of his eyes. He and Williams 
became w"xrm friends and spent many pleasant daj^s together. 

Although Williams staid in England three years, he finally had to leave before 
the matter of the charter was settled, for trouble had broken out in Rhode Island 
that made it necessary for him to return at once. So, leaving- his business in the 
hands of Mr. Clark — who had gone with him from Providence — he went back as 
soon as he could to make peace. At last he was rewarded. In August, 1054, 
:i rter ten yea rs of quarreling, the towns all united in a union and chose Mi\ W^illiams 
for their president. 

When, ten years after Williams left hiin, Mr. Clark came back with the char- 
ter, it Avas received with g-reat joy and w^as at once put into operation. The first 
g-overnor was a man named Benedict Arnold. Roger Williams — beside being 
chief pastor to the whole colony — was one of his assistants and for twelve years 
everything moved along' quietly and pleasantl,>\ 

Mr. Williams was growing- old now; but he was strong and able still; and 
when not busy with public duties, attended to his private business, wrote religious 
tracts, and preached to the Indians. Then came the terrible scenes of King- Philip's 
Av;n-. The Narragansetts could no longer be kept from joining the other savages 
ill a^ general attack upon the pale-faced usurpers. When the dusky warriors 
were seen coming- toward Pi-ovidence, to treat the people there as cruelly as they 
had used the other settlers, Mr. Williams — then over seventy years old — took his 
staff and went out to meet them. The old chiefs, who knew him well, came town rds 
him and told him that they were still his friends, but that the young- wari-iors were 
so bitter against all the white men that it would not be safe for him to go among 
them. So he returned to the settlement and joined in the fight. The war lastcnl 
a year, only ending with the death of King Philip and almost the entire destruction 
of the savages. 



William Penn. 



211 



About a year afterward, the venerable hero, tlie friend of the oppressed every- 
where, and the founder of Rhode Island, passed quietly away. 

Rog-er Williams was born at Conwyl Cayo, Wales, in the year 160G. He died 
at Providence, Rhode Island, in 1G83. 







William Penn. 

Nearly half a century after the settlement of Jamestown and about twenty 
years after the Pilgrims landcnl, there arose in Eng-land a class of people called 
Quakers. The doctrines which th(>y believed werv. so forcibly preached by th(Mr 
leader that many people be.i^-an to join their society. 

Among these was William Peiiii, the son of a distinguished adnui-al in the 



212 One IfHixh'od Famoua ^inwricdiis. 

l^ritisli Navy. Tliis man- I he fal.lior — stood in ^Toat favor with Mu* kiiii;- and 
tlie Conr"(, and wIhmi lie heard Iliad his son Wilhani — whom lie had sent to col- 
le.ii'e and of whom iu> «>x|)eett>(l i^reat, liiin<4s was tnrnini;- Qnaker, his rai^'e l^ntnv 
no bonnds. lie (hH'lai'(>d tJiai no son of liis shonld h>a\'e liie i^ood and r(\i;niar 
Cihnrcii of Eni^-hind and join a despisiMl sect. Findini;- that ai-i^-nnienti iiaii no elTiri, 
he tried asonnd tlirashini;-, and wiien tiiis, too, failed to change the opinions of the 
willtnl son, he tni'iunl liini ont-of-dixn'S. 

William was then eii^'hteen years old. lie had l)e(Mi finely' edneaied, was well 
bnilt and I'obnst, and with a mind stron,i;-|y inelincMl to relii^ions thoni^hts. He 
already beli(>vt>d so lirndy that the doetrintvs of the Qnakers wei\' ri.nht in tlu^ 
sii;'ht of (<o(l that nothinij;- eonld indnee him to renonnee them. Seeing- this and 
biMn.i;- bei;-.i;(Hl by his wife to take back his harsh words. Admiral l\'nn S(Mit to his 
son to i-ome home, w her(> he wonld bo protected fi'om the j^iMieral (^biaker |)erso- 
cution by his lather's hii^h sl-andini;-. 

l>nt his rri(>nds in the new relii^'ion did not Tare so well. All the rest of the 
societN' wer(> sorely ill-ti'eated by the rnhMs. K\(M1 Iu> was arrested while preachini;- 
in tbi> streots and imprisoned on a cliai'i;e of dist-nrbin^- the peace, allluniy'h he was 
soon I'eleased as not .guilty. 

After that, event his father sent him to Fi'ance, thinkini;- that the i^uy company 
he wonld have tluMV Avonld cool his relii;ions fervor, lint, it did not do so. He 
continned to preach and to teach and to write on the snbject that intcrestetl him 
above all others. HcMViMit on his preachini;- tonrs throni^h bin,i;hnul, Holland, 
and ()lerman_\-, and in all |)lac»>s lunvas aionst'd b\ tlu»sntf(>rin,i;s of t lu> peace-iovini;- 
Qnakers. They were lined, robbed, im|)risoned, and ill-treated in many other 
ways, all on acconnt of their beliefs. While Penn was studying- how to procure 
reli(>f for them, (^eori^c Fox, the i;reat leadei* of the Qnakers, bei;-i;ed him to do 
somelhin.i;- foi- those in Lord Baltimore's colony in Amtn-ica. This l(>d him \o think 
of t lu' Ni>w Woild as a \)\•,\c^' of i-efni;(> for all of them. 

The kini;' had b(>come ind(4)l(Hl to I'enn's fatluM' — who was now dead — for a 
]:\V}XO. sum of montw. renn went to him and asked him to pay the debt l)y i;-i-ant- 
in.y: him a tracti of land in AmiMica. After awhile the kini;' ai;'reed to do so, and 
mad(> oxer to Tenn al)ont fort.\- thousand ai-res of lerritory north of Viri^inia which 
was already seltl(>d b_\ a nnmb(>r of (,)naker i-efni^'ces. The only claim reserved 
b\' the kini;- was that he shonld rec(MVt» a payment of two beaver skins every year. 

Now, ati last, IVnn had a refn,i;(^ for the followei-s of the Quaker reliii'ion, and a 
hwixo mmib(M- of them w<>re soon pei'snaded to leave tluMi* unhappy homt^s in 
Fm-ope and form a colony in the New World. He wished to name the connt ry 
N(»w \Val(>s, bnt tin* kini;- insisted upon callini;- it Pennsylvania — not in honor of 
William, as many people tbink, but. of his fattier, who was a friend of the king. In 



WiUiatti Penn. ai3 

February of the next year Penn with eleven othei- men bou^-ht East New Jersey, 
which was then a Houi'ishiii^- colony, and in Septenibei- he saih'd Un- his new pos- 
sessions, where he was coi-dially welcoiuecl by the Friends a-lceady tliere. He had 
made out a I'oi'm of i^overnment and laws for the colony before leaving Eng- 
land, and his first work a I'ter ariiving- was to make peace with the Indians. He and 
the other leaders in the colony met a hiri^e comi)an_\' of the red men untk'r a i;i'eat 
ehn-tree by the side of the Dehiware, and all agreed that they would livt^ on tei-ms 
of peace and friendliness for each other as long- as *Hhe creeks and rivers run, and 
while the sun, moon, and stai's endure." No oaths were made, nor h)ni;' ai'ticles 
of ag-ivcMuent drawn up, yet the bond was never violated, '' tlie only tr-eaty in his- 
tory tliat vv^as never sworn to and never broken." TliCi Indians always remem- 
ber(>d the great " Mig-non," as they called Penn, and each g-eueration told their 
children of his justice and goodness. They butchei-ed and scalped and burned the 
dwelling's ol" other settlers, but the peace-loving-, drab-coated Quakers were never 
distui'bed. 

Peon's uext work was to provide for a capital city where the seat of the colo- 
nial g'overnnient mig'ht W made. He purchased the necessary land of the 
Swedes, who had bought it of the Indians, and named it Philadelphia — the City 
of Bj-otherly Love — hoping- that the inhabitants would always cari-y out the spii'it 
of its name. 

When the g-overnm(>ut of i\\o. colony was settled in g-ood order Penn returned 
to England, llei'e he found that during his absence his Quaker bret hreu had beeu 
very badly nsed. He went to the king and ol)tained a promise that the persecu- 
tion should be stopped at once, and it was in a- g-reat measui-e. 

A few months afterward Charles II. died and James II. took the throne. He 
and Penn were intimate friends and nuich of their time was passed tog-ether. Penn 
was known to have so nmch iniiuence with King- Ja-mes that pe()j)le crowded to his 
house to beg- him to ask royal fax'ors for them. At that time there wert^ many 
people shut up in the |)risons of England, bi>cause their religious beliel's diil'ereil 
from that of the Estal)lished Chui-ch of England; and one of the g-ood causes 
Penn won with the king- was to have all these people set free. Among- them were 
twelve hundred Quakers. 

It was ten years before he went back to his colony in America. During- this 
time James II. was deposed and William of Orang-e was' placed on the throne ; and 
Penn, as the friend of the fornuM- king-, was accused of treason and put in prison; 
and although he was soon ac(iuitted, his liberty did not last long-, for a new charge 
was niised ag-ainst him, and he was ol)lig-ed to keep out of the way of his enemies, 
and also to lose many of his former friends. In the midst of this trouble his wife 
died, and he was deprived of the g'overnment of his colony in America. These were 



I 



214 One Hundi^ed Famous Americans. 

dark days, but he spent them i^rofitably, writing- treatises for the comfort and de- 
fense of the Friends, and devising- means of helping- the colonists in Pennsylvania 
out of the troubles that had come upon them through bad management during- his 
long- absence. 

At last his accusers lost their influence with the king- ; he was ag-ain made gov- 
ernor of his colony, and, after attending- to various business matters and church 
interests, he embarked once more for America. He found affairs in Pennsylvania 
in a very bad state. Ill-feeling- had grown up between the Quakers and the other 
members of the colonj^ and many other matters had g-one wrong-. He set about 
instituting- a better g-overnment at once, and beg-an looking- after the condition of 
the neg'ro slaves and the Indians within the colony. Another treaty was made 
with the red men, presents were exchang-ed with them, and they ag-reed to look to 
the King- of Eng-land as their protector. 

"While thus occupied in making better the condition of aU the people in the 
colony, Penn heard that there was talk in England of taking it away from him 
and returning- it to the crown, so he had to hurry back and attend to the matter. 
His last act before leaving- America — for what proved to be the last time — was to 
g-ive a charter to the city of Philadelphia. 

Soon after Penn's arrival in England, the king- decided not to take possession 
of the colony ; but other troubles came up, more dissensions among- the settlers, 
and more persecutions for the Quakers in their native land, so that the last days 
of the peace-loving- old man were filled with tiding-s of strife, where he had labored 
most for harmony. 

His own life, too, was filled with g-rief in his last j^ears. Unfaithful ag-ents had 
so badly managed his property that his fortune was lost and he was put in prison 
because he would not pay these agents some unreasonable sums that they claimed 
to be due them. He had some good friends, though, who secured his release. 
Then he asked the Legislature of Pennsylvania to loan him some mone3^ to help him 
out of his difficulties, but they refused. This was one of the g-reatest sorrows of 
his life, for he had given his work, his time, and a g-reat deal of money to help the 
colonists in many ways ; and now that he was old and in distress their ing-ratitude 
almost broke his heart. 

William Penn was born in London, Eng-land, October 14, 1G44. He died at Rus- 
combe, Berkshire, England, July 30, 1718. 

At the time of the French and Indian War — about twenty years before the 
Revolution — the country that now forms the State of Kentucky was a wooded 
wilderness, used by the Indians onl}^ for hunting, *'Kan-tuck-kee" they called 
it, meaning- the dark and bloody g-round. Soon after the close of the war — in 



Daniel Boone. 



215 



1T63 — a few bold white hunters crossed the mountains that guarded it on the east, 
and began to explore its resources. Among- them was Daniel Boone. He was 
a native of Penns^ilvania, though he had lived in North Carolina since he was 
eighteen years old. He was a grown man by this time, with a family and quite a 
reputation throughout the country for his intelligence and his adventures. Much 
interested in the little he learned about the hunting-grounds of the Indians, he 
made up a party after a few years, to explore its wilds. It was a most discourag- 
ing trial. Boone himself, and his brother who joined them later, were the only 
ones, who escaped from the Indians. Alone they passed the winter in the vast 




Daniel Boone. 

forest, savage beasts and savage men their only neighbors. In the spring the 
brother went home for supplies, and Daniel spent three solitary months in the little 
hut and its grand and beautiful surroundings, until the brother returned with 
horses, food, and powder. Then they went on with their explorations until early 
in the next spring. The wonders of beauty and richness they found can scarcely 
be imagined even in the fair Kentucky of to-day. Then it was perfectly fresh, un- 
worn, unmarred by man in any way, and much of it still shrouded in delightful 
mystery. Thoroughly charmed with the region, the brothers resolved now to go 
North Carolina, get their families, and return with them to the new country and 
there make theii" home. 



21G One Hundred Famous Americans. 

It was two years before they could make all the necessary arrang-ements. But 
at last they were ready and off. Five other families had joined them, and it was 
a ha])py party of forty that set their faces noi'th westward to find under the leader- 
sliip oL" Boone a new home in a fair, rich country beyond the mountains. Wives 
and children were fixed to ride as comfortabl3^ as possible ; clothes and cooking- 
utensils were carried b3'^ pack-horses, and a herd of swine and cattle were driven 
on before. For some time the}^ went along- without any serious mishap. But 
suddenly the pleasant expectation of the travelers was turned into fear and con- 
fusion. A party of Indians fell upon the rear of the line and Ivilled a number of 
the company, among them Boone's youngest son. This put a stop to their prog- 
ress, and instead of pushing further into the territory of the savages, they turned 
aside and settled in Virginia. But Boone was yet to found a settlement in Ken- 
tucky. 

The Government, having heard of the fine lands across the mountains, proposed 
to give portions of it to the Virginia heroes of the French and Indian War. It 
was necessary, therefore, to have these lands surveyed, and who was so able to help 
in the work as Boone, who had already spent two years in exploring them ? He 
willingly undertook the work, and when it was done the governor appointed him 
to lead a foi'ce of colonists against some Indians who were disturbing the settlers on 
the Virginia frontier along the Ohio. After successfully routing the troublesome 
savages, he returned to his family and found that the little company had recovered 
from their fright about the Indians and were now anxious to go on to Kentuck3^ 
Another company was also formed in North Carolina to assist m making settle- 
ments, and Boone was chosen general manager and surveyor for the whole party. 
After a time, they again set out for the West. On reaching the Kentucky River 
they received another attack from the Indians and again a few of their nujuber 
were killed. But this time they kept on, and when in April, 1775, the patriots in 
Massachusetts were engaged in the battle of Lexington, the pioneers in Kentucky 
were building a fort and founding the settlement of Boonesborough. Here the 
women and children were brought, and home life among white people began in 
Kentucky. Boone's wife and daughter were the first white women, it is said, that 
ever stood upon th(^ banks of the Kentucky River. 

The fort Avas a^ sure protection against the Indians as long as the settlers kept 
within it ; but to venture out was dangerous. The Indians were always prowl- 
ing about, Avatching all that went on, and sometimes capturing those who went be- 
yond its protection. But Boone had great skill in dealing with the red men, and 
usually recovered the captives, and also made his own escape when — as it hap- 
pened once or twice — he was himself taken. 

He was in many respects a wonderful man. He had a clear and well-balanced 



Daniel Boone. 217 

mind, and was able to do successfully whatever he undertook. Without knowing 
anything about politics, lie kept up an isolated settlement on the fronti(;r, and with- 
out having- any military l\novvledg-e, he was one of the most formidable foes the 
Indians ever met with. An author who loved noble traits in men once said 
of Boone : He was seldom taken by surprise, never shrunk from danger, nor 
failed beneath exposure or fatigue ; he knew nothing- of engineering- as a sci- 
ence, yet he laid out the first road through the wilderness of Kentucky and es- 
tablished the first fort there. He had few books and read little, but he thought 
a great deal, and was in his way a philosopher of calm and even mind. He was 
plain and unpoetical, with wonderful love for the beauties of nature. His simple, 
retii-ing- manners never altered into rustic rudeness ; and, bold and unsparing 
as he was in warfare, he was fair and kind to all creatures — a thoroughly hu- 
mane man. His wants were no greater than his rifle and the wild woods could 
supply, while the constant danger in which he lived for many years made him 
only circumspect, not uneasy and suspicious. His love of adventure kept his life 
full of inspiration, while the trials and dangers through which it took him added 
to his character a serene patience and fortitude. Robust, compactly knit in figure, 
honest, intelligent, and chivalrous in nature, he excelled as a sportsman, and won 
the respect of his savage captors by his skill and fortitude. More than once, with- 
out violence, he freed himself from their imprisonment, revealing their bloody 
schemes to his countrymen, and meeting them on the battlefield with a coolness 
and swiftness that awoke their admiration as much as their astonishment. Again 
and again he saw his companions fall before their tomahawks and rifles; his 
daughter he rescued from the red men's camp, to which she had been carried from 
his very door ; his son fell before his eyes in a conflict with the Indians who opposed 
their immigration to Kentucky ; his brother and liis dearest f»-iends were victims 
either to their strategy or violence ; his own escape from death at their hands was 
due more than once to the mfluence he had obtained over them by tact and 
patience, and to his sure, swift action when the chance came to flee from them. 

Once when Boone was a prisoner in the Indians' camp — captured while g'athering 
salt near the fort — the chief came to like him so well that he adopted him to take 
the place of his lost son. His only course was to appear satisfied, but he was 
keenly on the watch for all the movements of the red men, and finally learned that 
they were planning an attack upon Boonesborough. He swiftly resolved to 
escape, and warn the settlement of the danger. In a short time he managed to 
get away, and, traveling a hundred and sixty miles in five days, he astonished 
liis friends by appearing among them long after they had lost all hope of his 
being alive, and his wife and children had gone mournfully back to their old 
home in North Carolina. The fort was quickly prepared for an attack from the 



218 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Indians, who soon came, four hundred and fifty strong-, against a little band of 
seventy. After nine days of fighting- the Indians gave up and left the fort still in 
the hands of Boone and his colony. 

When all was safe he went after his family and brought them back to Boones- 
borough in 1780. Here he remained for twelve years, engaged in improving and 
enlarging the settlement and occasionally turning out against the hostile Indians, 
who succeeded now and then in capturing some beloved member of the colony, but 
were for the most part kept well at bay. 

The fair lands of Kentucky began after awhile to be in great demand. Those 
who owned the rich acres could sell them at a high price, and some of the early 
settlers were now rewarded in wealth for the hardships they had endured. Boone, 
being one of the first and greatest of these, supposed that he owned quite a good 
deal of the land he had discovered, explored, and colonized. But sharp men 
found out that his papers were not legal, and that he could not hold his land. 
Hardy and heroic as he was, he was also too modest and diffident to be able to 
quarrel about what was justly his, so in his old age he left Kentucky to those 
more bold for wealth and less high-principled than himself and retreated into the 
wild regions of Missouri, which had not yet been invaded by those who followed the 
sturdy settlers to reap the benefit of their pioneering-. There he received a grant 
of land from Spain, but lost it also through a mistake in the title papers. 

After this second misfortune he wrote a simple, touching letter to the people 
of Kentucky, asking them to help him to get a clear title to at least part of his 
lands, saying, " I have no place to call my own, whereon to lay my bones ; " and 
as in those days it was one of a inan's first duties to set aside and prepare a burial- 
ground for himself and his family, the people were greatly touched. The State 
begged ten thousand acres or more of Congress, and the gift was granted ; but 
the lawyers who came in between the giver and the receiver cheated the heroic 
old man out of even this, and he " who had helped to conquer an empire died land- 
less at last." But his memory was not without honor. 

On an autumn day, about thirty years ago, a hearse, garlanded with evergreens, 
was slowly drawn by white horses through the main sti-eet of Frankfort, Kentucky. 
It was the second funeral of Daniel Boone. His remains lay in the cherry-wood 
coffin he had polished himself in the rude and lonely cabin on the banks of the 
Missouri, and they were then being removed by the State, to the public cem- 
etery of the capital of Kentucky. People said it was but just that these ceremo- 
nies of love and respect should be paid to the memory of the noble and defrauded 
old pioneer, who first explored their fair State, when the elk and buffalo held undis- 
puted possession with the Indian ; when its dark forests were the contested bound- 
ary between the Cherokees, Creeks, and Catawbas, of the South ; and the Swanees, 



Lewis and Clarke. 219 

Delawares, and Wyandottes, of the North; and the deep glades of the forest 
primeval were stained with the warrior blood of the red savages. 

Daniel Boone was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, 1735. He died m 
Missouri, in 1820 or 1822. 

During President Jefferson's administration, the famous Lewis and Clarke 
Expedition was sent out by the Government to explore the Missouri River from 
its mouth to its source, to find the shortest distance from there to the headwaters 
of the Columbia, and then to trace that river to the Pacific Ocean. 

Jefferson, who was very much interested in the project, stated to Congress 
that he thought that his private secretary, Merriwetlier Lewis, would make 
an able commander of the expedition ; he Avas a young Virginian of great promise 
and some experience ; he had helped to quell the " Whisky Insurrection " in Penn- 
sylvania ; and — though now but twenty-six years old — had risen to the rank of cap- 
tain in the regular army. Congress thought well of the suggestion and placed 
Lewis in charge of the scientific portion of the expedition, while William Clarke, 
a soldier who had seen a good deal of Indian warfare, was made military commander. 

After that the rest of the company was gathered together, and when all ar- 
rangements were made, a little band of thirty men started out in the fall of 1803, 
Beside the two commanders, there were nine young Kentuckians, fourteen soldiers 
from the United States Army, two French boatmen, an interpreter to speak with 
the Indians, a hunter, and a negro servant. They traveled as far as the Wood 
Riv^er on the eastern side of the Mississippi, and then made up their camp for the 
winter. Halting there until the spring, they passed their time in drilling, so as to 
be ready to meet the Indians that would be sure to object to their presence, and 
in preparing their stores so that they could be easily carried. Their luggage was 
a very serious matter, because as they were going far away from civilization, they 
had to take with them almost everything they should need — clothing, working 
utensils, fire-arms and ammunition, scientific instruments, and a large quantity 
of presents for the Indians. These were perhaps the most bulky, unhandy objects 
of all, being richly laced dresses, coats, flags, knives, tomahawks, bead ornaments, 
looking-glasses, handkerchiefs, paints, and other things particularly pleasing to 
the savages. But during the winter the men got them all packed in large bales 
that were easily loaded in boats, when the party was ready to break camp. Hir- 
ing some boatmen to take them as far as the country of the Mandan Indians, 
they set out in ver^' good condition as soon as spring had fairly Opened. There 
were five boats in the stream and two horses were led along the banks to be used 
in carrying the game, which was very plentiful and furnished nearly all the food 
needed during the summer. Each day they journeyed from ten to twenty miles, 



330 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

and at night they encamped upon the banks of the river. A number of the men 
kept joiu'iuUs of each day's happening's, wliile tlic leaders made careful record of 
ilieir sci(Miii(ic (>l)S(U'vations. 

During tlie luouUis of May and June they passed the mouths of the Osage, 
Kansas, and Platte tributai-ies to the Missoui'i, and in July they entered the coun- 
try of the Ottoe Indians. T\\e.y held a meeting with the chiefs and promised them 
that if they would be quiet and peaceable their " great father," the President, would 
protect them from their enemies. Between the mouths of the Platte and the Sioux 
Riv^ers they found the work of surveying the course of the Missouri very difficult 
on account of its zigzag windings. Part of the time they were in Iowa and part 
of the time in Nebraska until they reached the land of the Sioux Indians. Then 
for some distance tlie ground was well known to the men who liad traded with 
that friendly tribe. Making tlieir way easily for a time, they soon rounded the 
Great Bend, passed the Che^^enne, and in the last of October they reached the 
country of the Mandan Indians, over sixteen hundred miles above the mouth of the 
Missouri. 

It was their plan to encamp here for the winter, and, when the Indians flocked 
about their boats, the explorers asked to hold a council with them. Agreeing to 
this, the chiefs and first men of the tribe met Lewis and Clarke, and listened to 
tlieir speeches with attention, while they told them that the "great white father" 
wished to live in peace with them and to have them live in the same way with their 
neighbors, and said that this party had no desire to disturb them in any way. 
Then presents were given to them ; to the first chief of each town, a flag and 
a medal with the likeness of the President upon it, a uniform coat, hat, and feather ; 
to the second chiefs, a medal representing' some domestic animals and a weaving- 
]ooni ; and to the third, medals representing a farmer sowing- grain. Among 
a number of other pi'esents that were distributed among the i:)eople, one that 
seemed to please them best was a corn-mill for grinding the kernels taken from 
the ear. They had never seen anj^thing like it before, and it interested them 
very much. 

In return for these gifts the Indiaiis brought buffalo robes and quantities of 
corn to their courteous white visitors ; they paid many friendly A'isits to the camp, 
and gave Captain Clarke much valuable information about the great Louisiana ter- 
ritory aromid them. 

After building some cobins and a fort, which they named Fort Mandan, the 
explorers spent the winter in making maps of the ground that had been gone 
oveC) surveying the portion of the river near them, in hunting, studying the 
ways of the Indians, and collecting specimens of earth, salt, minerals, and plants, 
which were all labeled with the date and place in which they were found. These 



Lewis and Clarke. 221 

were packed and forwarded to President Jefferson on the 7tli of April, 1805, 
the day on whicli the party broke camp and left the vilkii^'es of the friendly 
Mandans. 

Pushing" steadily on in their march, they passed the mouth of the Little Mis- 
souri, then that of the Yellowstone, and for over a month afterward traveled due 
west. Now and then they met a bear — Captain Lewis had a couple of naiTow 
escapes from them — but for the most part it was a steady and novel, though not an 
exciting", journey across the country, till, in the course of two months, they reached 
the junction of two large rivers. Here they met a diflficulty — which was the 
Missouri ? It would not do to take the wrong" one, for they would then lose a whole 
season in following it and in retracing their steps. They (piestioned the Indians, 
but could learn nothing" from them. All the men thoug"ht that the northern fork, 
with its deep channel and turbitl waters, must be the Missouri; but the two cap- 
tains, who judged from their scientilic observations, thought that the southern 
stream was probably the main river. To settle the matter Captain Lewis took a 
few men and pushed forward on that one, while Captain Clarke made some exam- 
ination of the other. They knew for certain, fi-oni traders and Indians, that some 
g-reat falls occui-red in the real Missoui'i not far from its source ; a,iid so, when, 
on the third day of his tramp, Captain Lewis heard a faint roar in the distance, he 
was pretty sure that they were on the right track. Hastening" foi'ward, he soon 
saw a cloud of vapor ai'ising, and in a short time his little band reached the gr«at 
falls of the Missouri. 

Sending- a man back with the news to the rest of the party, the captain began 
at once to examine the cataract. He soon became so absorbed in its grandeur and 
beauty that he forg'ot that he was in a wild coimtry whose inhabitants did not 
always give strang"ers the pleasantest sort of a welcome ; he even foi'got that liis 
rille was unloaded, and was only aroused to these facts wlien he suddenly saw a 
huge brown bear close upon him. There was no time to load his rifle, so he plungetl 
into the river, hoping" that the bear could not foUow. For a few moments this 
seemed to be a mistake, for bruin followed him close to the water's edge; then it 
appeared to be frig"htened at something and hastened away. 

In a couple of days Captain Clarke arrived and the party took up its march 
toward the source of the river. In about two weeks they came to the great pass, 
" The Gates of the Rocky Mountains," where the river breaks through the steep 
rocks at the bottom of a deep gorge between five and six miles long". Furthei' on, 
they found another junction in the stream. Here there were thi-ee branches of 
about equal size, and another discussion arose ; but it was soon decided that the 
most westerly stream was the true Missouri. Naming the three branches after 
the President, Jefferson ; the Secretary of State, Madison ; and the Secretary of the 



322 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Treasury, Gallatin, the^^ took the Jefferson fork and on the 12th of August arrived 
at the spring-head of the Missouri, three thousand miles from where it pours into 
the Mississippi, whence they had started a year and a half before. 

One-half of the work was now done ; the other half was to find the source of 
the Columbia and trace its course to the Pacific. The courageous pioneers climbed 
the mountains before them, and were the first white men to stand upon the sum- 
mit of the famous rang-e of the Rocky Mountains which forms the water-shed 
between the Pacific and the central table-lands of North America. 

Before thej^ had g"one down three-quarters of a mile on the other side, they 
came to a small stream of clear water — the very waters that they sought : it was 
the source of the Columbia. Tliey did not know this, thoug-h, and feared to fol- 
low its course lest it should lead them astray. So they kept on in their chosen 
direction till the3^ met a company of Snake Indians, who told them that the stream 
they had passed became a large river and flowed into the great ocean. But they 
also said that the coimtry through which it ran afforded no food nor wood. Fi- 
nally, after much urging- and the promise of many presents, some of the red men 
consented to guide the party over this unknown and dang-erous I'egion. 

It was hnpossible for them to follow this river in boats, as they had the Mis- 
souri, neither could they travel along" its steep and rocky banks. They had to 
take the i-ugged Indian path across the mountains, stopping at the Indian villages 
on the way for rest and refreshment. Before this the party had met with ver^^ 
little trouble from cold and hunger, but in these regions they came near starving- 
several times ; they had to kill and eat their horses and then to buy dog-s of the 
Indians for food. 

Nearly a month was passed in this barren country before the party reached 
the place whei-e the northern and the southern forks of the great Columbia meet. 
From here, the guides said they could travel by water ; so canoes were made, and 
after naming- the northern branch after Captain Clai'ke, and the southern after 
Captain Lewis, the^^ embarked on the water once more and went floating smoothly 
down the river. When they came to the g-reat falls the Indians said the^^ would 
have to take to land again, but the intrepid leaders thought the canoes would ride 
the cataracts, and, feeling- unwilling- to spend the time and strength that would 
be necessary to carry all the baggage past the falls by land, determined to 
take the risk. All the boats went over safely, and passed the still more dang-er- 
ous narrows below. After that it was a smooth journey to the mouth of the Co- 
lumbia, where they arrived at the close of November, 1805, having traveled more 
than four thousand miles. During the first week in December a place for the 
winter camp was found on a small bay of the Pacific coast, which they named 
Merriwether, the Christian name of Captain Lewis, 



John Charles Fremont. 223 

Early in tlie spring", they turned their faces homeward. Two months only 
were taken in retracing- their steps to the navigable portion of the Missouri ; and, 
once more afloat, it did not take them long to reach Fort Lewis, where they ar< 
rived May 22, 180G. 

The long, hazardous journey had been successfully made, its objects secured, and 
the reports of the party were most valuable to the Government. Congress reward- 
ed the labors of the commanders by giving them large grants of land in Missouri. 
Lewis was made governor of the territory and Clarke general of the militia. Soon 
after they had gone to their new homes. Governor Lewis's health gave way, and, 
when not in his right mind for a time, he took his own life. 

Merriwether Lewis was born near Charlottesville, Virginia, August 18, 1774. 
He died near Nashville, Tennessee, October 11, 1809. 

General Clarke kept his command and the office of Indian Agent until 1813, 
when President Madison appointed him Governor of the Missouri Territory. 
This position he held until the Territory was made a State, and after that he was 
Superintendent of Indian Affairs until his death. 

William Clarke was born in Virginia August 1, 1770. He died at St. Louis, 
Missouri, September 1, 1838. 

The year 1828 saw the beginning of a new epoch in the United States — one of 
growth and prosperit3\ It opened when Congress adopted the '' American Sys- 
tem " — that famous plan of President John Quincy Adams and Henry Clay to 
raise the tariff on foreign goods and use the revenue for internal improvements — 
and it received its mightiest impulse three years later, when one of George Ste- 
phenson's new locomotive engines was brought over from England. Then people 
began to see that the distant portions of the land — if explored and surveyed — might 
be connected with each other. It was a faint glimmer of what has now come to 
pass, and with returning prosperity improvements went rapidly on. But it was 
a great work, and for a long time the region of the Mississippi was wild frontier, 
and all beyond was like a sealed book known to hold wonderful mysteries of lake 
and river, mountain and prairie, where only Indians could find their way. It was 
marked in the geographies as the "great American desert." 

At the beginning of this era, John Charles Fremont — who has done more 
than any other man to open up the West — was a remarkably bright boy of fifteen, 
entering Charleston College, South Carolina. His especial forte was mathemat- 
ics ; and the year in which the first American locomotive was run, he became a 
teacher upon the sloop of war Natchez. The vessel had come into Charleston 
Harbor to enforce President Jackson's proclamation against the " Nullifiers ; " and 
when she sailed out on a cruise to South America, her post teacher of mathematics 



224 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

was young- Fremont. He had not graduated from colleg-e, and had had 'but poor 
chances for an education before he had entered it, hut he was able to fulfill his 
duties successfully. When he returned after two or three years and found that 
the navy had adopted the plan of having professors of mathematics, he at once 
passed the rig-id examination which enabled him to take such a position. 

But meanwhile the interest in opening- up the country and building- railroads 
had grown very fast, and Fremont decided to leave the sea and become a Gov- 
ernment surveyor and civil engineer. He helped to lay out the railroad routes 
through the mountain passes of North Carolina and Tennessee, and after that he 
was one of a party that explored some of the then unknown sections of Missouri. 
Before this latter work was finished he was promoted to the rank of second lieu- 
tenant of the map-making- or topog-raphical engineers ; and three j^ears later, when 
he was twenty-eight years old, he had an unlooked-for appointment from the Gov- 
ernment to explore and survey the Des Moines River. 

Mr. Fremont was deeply in love just then with young- Miss Jessie Benton, a 
daug'hter of a United States Senator from Missouri. Her parents were much 
opposed to having her marry a Government officer ; so it was with a heavy hearl 
that the young man set out for the frontier wilderness of Iowa, and the land of 
the Sacs and Fox Indians along- the Des Moines banks ; but he did his work well, 
and when he returned in the fall, the Bentons agreed that since he was in every 
way worthy as a man they would forg-ive his being- an officer and consent to the 
marriag-e. This happy event has been of importance to more people than to 
themselves alone ; for by her energy and powers of mind, Mrs. Fremont has not 
only been a direct help to her husband in carrying out the most important ex- 
plorations ever made under the United States Government, but she has cheered 
and encourag-ed him to keej) up heart and push on through many years of work 
and hardship, often clouded by injustice and disappointment. 

The expedition to the Des Moines settled the purpose of Mr. Fremont's life. 
He then learned enoug-h of the great Western country to know that the Govern- 
ment and the citizens who were g-athered along the Atlantic seaboard really knew 
almost nothing of the truth about the uninhabited portions of their land ; that the 
extravagant tales which had been told by adventurous traders and travelers were 
mostly false ; that probably a g-reat portion of the countr^^ could be used for farm 
lands and manufacturing towns ; and that railway routes could probabl}^ be laid 
across the whole continent. 

Filled with a desire to open up these treasures of knowledg-e, he applied to the 
War Department for permission to survey the whole of the territory Ijing- be- 
tween the Missouri River and the Pacific Ocean. The request was granted and 
means provided for an expedition to be fitted out, especially to find a good route 



John Charles Fr-emont. 



J2?. 




John (Jiiakles Fh^munt. 



from the Eastern States to California, and to examine and survey the South Pass 
of the Rocky Mountains — the great crossing-place for emigrants on their way to 
Oregon. It was his own wish to have this definite order, for he knew — though he 



226 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

did not then say so — tliat iX tlic Goverment had this particular section explored 
and surveyed, it would fix a point in the emig-rants' travel and also show an en- 
courag-ing- interest in their enterprise. 

On the second of May, with his instructions and part of his supplies. Lieuten- 
ant Fremont left Washing-ton for St. Louis, which was then a good-sized town on 
the border-land of the Western wilderness. There he collected his party and fin- 
ished fitting- out the expedition. About twenty men joined him — mostly Creoles 
and Canadians who had been employed as traders for fur companies and who 
were used to the Indians and all the hardships of the roug-h life they should have 
to lead. Besides these men, he had a well-known hunter, named Maxwell, for 
their g-uide, and the celebrated mountaineer, Christopher Carson — or Kit Carson, 
as he was usually called — who w^as both bold and cautious, and knew more about 
the West than almost any hunter in the country. Tliis was the little band that, 
armed and mounted, set out with their g-allant leader on his first g-reat exploring 
expedition. They found him a man full of determination and self-reliance, having- 
skill and patience and many resources, and who grew stronger in his purpose 
when perils and discourag-ements lay in his path. His men were well chosen, 
spirited, and adventurous, while most of them were also hardy and experienced. 

Most of the party rode on horseback, but some drove the mule carts that car- 
ried the bag-g-ag-e, instruments, and what food it was thoug-ht necessary to take 
along-. Tied to the carts were a few loose horses and some oxen to be killed on 
the way for fresh meat. 

After they had crossed Missouri and reached Chouteau's Landing — where Kan- 
sas City now stands — they felt that their journey w^as really begun. Starting 
here at the mouth of the Kansas, they followed its winding course across the 
northeastern corner of Kansas State and pushed on into Nebraska until they 
reached the barren banks of the Platte. Then they followed that stream, taking 
the dii-ection of the Southern fork, when they reached the division, and following 
where it led almost to Long-'s Peak. Then they changed their line of march, and 
keeping- near the banks of the Northern fork, pushed on to Fort Laramie. This 
was reached in safety in the middle of July, the travelers having- had only one g-reat 
buffalo fight and one encounter with the Arapahoe Indians in the course of their 
journey. The meeting- with the Indians turned out a friendly one, thoug-h it would 
not have been so but for Maxwell, who had traded with the tribe, and knowing- the 
warriors, shouted to their leader in the Arapahoe languag-e just in time to prevent 
a fray. The chief was riding- on furiously, but at the sound of words in his own 
speech from the white men, he wheeled his horse round, recognized Maxwell, and 
g-ave his hand to Fremont with a friendly salute. 

At Fort Laramie repor-ts were heard of trouble aniong- the Indians and white 



John Charles Fremont. 227 

people between the Platte and the Rocky Mountains, and the explorers were told 
that their lives would be in danger if they went any further west until mat- 
ters were quiet again. But Fremont and his men thoug-lit that probably the 
stories were exaggerated, and resolved not to be daunted by them. So, after a 
few days of rest, they got ready to start out. Just as they were about to depart, 
four friendly chiefs appeared with a letter, warning Fremont of danger from bands 
of young Indian warriors if he went further. He received their warning very re- 
spectfully, thanked them for their kindness, and made a pretty little speech in an- 
swer to theirs : " When you told us that 3^our young men would kill us," he said, 
" you did not know that our hearts were strong, and you did not see the rillos 
which my young men carry in their hands. We are few, and you are inany and 
may kill us, but there will be much crying in your villages, for many of your young 
men Avill stay behind, and forget to return with your warriors from the moun- 
tains. Do you think tliat our great chief" — meaning the President — "will let 
his soldiers die and forget to cover their graves ? Before the snows melt again, 
his warriors will sweep away your villages as the fire does the praii-ie in the 
autumn. See! I have pulled down my white houses, and n\y people are ready; 
when the sun is ten paces higher, we shall be on the march. If you have anything 
to tell us, you will say it soon." 

The chiefs were not expecting such words in repl}^ but they liked the bold spii-it 
of the white man from the East, and what they soon had to say was that they 
would send one of their young warriors to guide the party. It was a little favor 
of only one man, but it was everything to the explorers, for — as both they and 
the Indians knew — his presence in the party was sure protection for them against 
all the savages they might meet. Fremont heartily accepted the courtesy, and at 
evening the company set out for the distant region of the Rockies. 

Now their real difficulties began. Soon they entered a most desolate country, 
where, the interpreter assured them, they were likely to die of starvation if they 
went very far. They had only food enough left to last for ten days, and the gallant 
leader called his men together and told them that he intended to push on, but that 
all who wished to had his permission to turn back. " Not a man," he says, 
" flinched from his undertaking." One or two, who were not very strong, he sent 
back to the nearest fort, but the rest kept close to him till their aim w^as reached. 
" When our food is gone, we'll eat the mules," said one of them. 

The most difficult part of the whole expedition was now ahead of them, and it 
was necessary to go as lightly weighted as possible ; so they hid all the luggage 
they could spare in the bushes or buried it in the billows of sand that were banked 
up near the Wind River. Then they carefully removed all traces of what they had 
(lone so the Indians would not discover their stores and steal them. A few days' 



228 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

march broug'ht tliem to the watcr-shcd of the Pacific and Mississippi shapes, and 
then to the object of their search — the great, beautiful South Pass. Instead of the 
rocky heights they had expected, they saw a g-ently rising- sandy plain stretched 
beyond the gorge, and the much-dreaded crossing of the Rockies was an easy 
mattei\ Entering the Pass and going up into the mountains, they found the 
sources of many of the great rivers that flow to the Pacilic. Further on, they 
discovered a beautiful ravine, beyond which lay the fair water called Mountain 
Lake — " set like a gem in the mountains," and feeding one of the branches of the 
Colorado River, The expedition had now fulfilled its orders from the Government, 
but the leader did not give the word to return until he had gone up the lofty height 
of AVind River Peak — now known as Fremont's Peak — that stands in majebtic 
grandeur near the Pass. The summit was reached after a most difficult climb, 
and Fremont himself was the first Avhite man to stand on its narrow crest and to 
look out upon the country from the highest point in tlie Rocky Mountains. On 
one side lay mmiberless lakes and streams, giving their waters into the Colorado, 
which sweeps them on to the Gulf of California ; in the other direction he saw the 
lovely valley of the Wind River, the romantic home from A\hich the Yellowstone 
carries its waters to the Missouri, away to the east; in the north he saw the snow- 
capped summits of the Trois Tctons, where the Missouri and the Columbia rise, and 
the lower peaks that guard the secret of the Nebraska's biith. Between, beyond, 
and all around were lesser peaks, gorges, rugged cliffs, and great walls of 
moimtain rock broken into a thousantl bold, fantastic figures, and standing up in 
Aveird and striking grandeur. A thousand feet below him, steep, shining ice- 
precipices towered above fields of snow gleaming spotless white. "We stood," 
said Fremont, ''where human foot had never stood before and felt the thrill of 
first explorers." 

When the travelers were again at the base of the peak and all their explora- 
tions and discoveries had been carefully noted, and their specimens of rock, plants, 
a.nd llowers gathei'ed together, they tui-ned their faces liomeAvard. They found 
their hidden stores, made up their ti'ain once nu)i'e, found the camp of the men who 
liad remained behind, and, glad Avith their success, took up the eastAvard march. 

A full report of the expedition Avas soon sent to Congress, and in a short time 
Fremont's discoA'eries became a sid)ject of great interest in bt)11i Eui'ope and 
America. One of the Senators, speaking on the repoi-t, said : All tlie objects 
of the expedition liaA''e been accomplished, and in a Avay to be beneficial to science 
and instructive to the general reader, as well as nsefvd to tlie Government. Sup- 
)ili('d Avith the best astronomical and bai'ometrical instruments, Avell ([iialified to use 
them, and accompanied by men trained to all the hardships and dangers of the 
prairies and the mountains, he has in an almost incredibly short space of time 



John Charles Fremont. 229 

returned without an accident to a man, and with a vast amount of useful observa- 
tions and many liundred specimens of geology and botany in the varieties of 
plants, flowers, shrubs, trees and grasses, rocks and earths, which he has found. 
From Fremont's Peak he had brought some of the flowers that he found growing 
beside his path, a bee that had flown up to them soon after they reached the 
summit, the rocks that formed the peak, and the rug-ged shelving- mountain above 
which it reared its icy, snow-capped head. Over the whole course of his extended 
trip, he has obtained the height both of plains and mountains, latitude and long- 
itude ; he reports the face of the country, whether it is arable or barren, whether 
traveling over it is easy or difficult, and the practicability of certain routes for 
pubhc highways. The grand features of nature are clearly described in fitting- 
language, and in some cases he has illustrated them by drawings. Militar}^ 
positions are pointed out, and in all other ways a thorough examination and sur- 
vey has been made of a vast portion of the national possessions which up to this 
time have been unused, unknown, and unappreciated. 

Europe and America praised the manner in which the expedition had been 
managed, and the Government, well pleased with the wonderful results he had ob- 
tained, appointed Lieutenant Fremont to set out on another journey at once and 
to complete the surve^^ between the State of Missouri and the tide-water regions 
of the Columbia River. 

This was just what he wanted to do. A trip to the top of Wind River Peak 
and back had but revealed to him what vast secrets of the Western country there 
were yet to be discovered, and he lost no time in getting ready to return. With some 
of his old companions and several new ones, he soon made up a band of about 
forty men, who left Kansas with him just one year after the first expedition had 
started. The route this time lay in a northwesterly direction — before it had been 
almost due west. In four months the^^ traveled over seventeen hundred miles, 
reaching the Great Salt Lake early in the autumn, and before winter began they 
had found the Columbia and followed it to its mouth. The same careful observa- 
tions and surveys were taken along the route of this journey as had made the 
otlier so valuable, especially in the region of the Great Salt Lake, about which no 
true accounts had ever been given before. 

Although Fremont had fulfilled the orders of the Government when he reached 
the mouth of the Columbia, this was really but a small part of what he intended 
to do upon this expedition. The vast region beyond the Rocky Mountains — the 
whole western slope of our continent — was but little known then in any way, and 
not at all with accurate, scientific knowledge. This, Fremont longed to go through 
and explore. At first he intended to begin doing so by returning home through 
the Great Basin — now Utah — between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Ne- 



330 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

vada ; but lie took another cUivction finally — a route tlu-ou^h almost an unknown 
re^i^'ion between the Columbia and Colorado— that led them fui'tlun- west, showed 
them Califoi-nia, and i-(\sulted at a later time in securing to the United States that 
rich country, Avhich was then owned by Mexico. The cold winter came on almost 
before the\- had started, and they had not gone far before they found themselves 
in a desert of snow where there was nothing- for either men or horses to eat, while 
between them and the fertile valleys of California was the rug-ged, snow-covered 
rang-e of tlie Sierra Nevada Mountains. They tried to get some of the Indians to 
show them the way over this gj-iwt bari-ier; but the savages declared that it could 
not be crossed— no human being had ever crossed it, and no guide would consent 
to go with them lor any amount of money. But they said there was an opening- 
further south, and gave Fremont some directions as to where it might be found. 
So the party took the risk of guiding themselves and kept on in their cold and 
desolate march. WIumi they reached the pass, it was only to see toward the 
west a still greater range before them. It was plain that they would get lost if 
they attempted to push on alone, and they had gone too far now to turn back. 
At last they found a young Indian who for a very large present would undertake 
to guide them. On the lirst of Febi-uary they started out, and after a terrible 
journey of forty days, they reached the Sacramento River, and a comfortable 
resting-place at Sutter's Fort, the place where gold was found four years later. 
Half of their horses had perished, and the men were so weak and thin that it was 
two months before they were able to go on again. 

Fi-enuMit did not attempt to go any further into California ; but when the spring 
opened and the men were well enough to travel, gave the word for home. They 
crossed the Sierra Nevada, and nuikiug their route as nearly due east as possible, 
they passed by the Great Salt Lake, crossed the Rocky Mountains through the 
South Pass, halted at several places they had become acquainted with before, and 
reached the Kansas country in July. There the ground was known to them, and 
the rest of the journey was (luite smoothly and quickly made. 

By midsummer, Fremont had reported himself to the Government and was 
onc(» more with his family. He hvirncHl then that a letter of recall had been sent 
to him after he stai-ted ; but that his wife held it back, seeing that it was upon 
some false charges made by his enemies at Washington. So he had really made 
this journey as a fugitive, but Mrs. Fremont's act was approved when her lius- 
band returned with a name that went over Europe and America for the great and 
valuable discoveries he had made in the northwest territory and the terrible hard- 
ships he had endured to make the expedition successful. 

In spite of the effoi'ts thatAvere made against him b^^some political opponents, 
Congress accepted his labors, gave him another appointment, and when he again 



John Charles Fremont. 231 

went out — which was as soon as his ro}>oi'ts wove finished — it was with the rank 
and title of captain in the United States Eiii^-iiieers. His o))ject this time w^as to 
liiul out more about the Salt Lalvc and otlier portions of the Great Basin, and to 
explort^ the coasts of Cahfornia and Oreg'on. After several months of discovery 
and careful surveys of the streams and watersheds between, he again crossed the 
Sierra Nevada in midwinter and went down into the rich and beautiful country 
linini^- the Pacific shore. This territory was then held by the Mexicans, and while 
he left his men at San Joaquin to rest, Fremont himself went on to Montere,y, the 
capita], to ask of Governoi' Castro permission to explore his country. The request 
was granted at first, but ;is news of the war between the United States and Mex- 
ico arrived just then, the pei'mission was recalled with orders that the travelers 
leave the country at once. But this the dauntless captain did not intend to do, so 
lie built a rude fort of lof>-s in a strong- position on the Hawk's Peak Mountain, 
about thirty miles from Monterey, and with his sixty- two men waited for an at- 
tack from the Mexican forces, which under General Castro encamped themselves in 
the ]ilain T)elow. They watched him foi" fom* days and then, deciding- not to fight, 
aliowiHl him to go on his way through the Sacramento Valley to Oregon. Befoi-e 
he had g'one very far, he was met by a party that had been sent out to find him, 
Avith orders from the United States to act for his nation in case Mexico should 
form a treaty with England to pass California into the hands of Great Britain. 
General Castro soon threatened to attack the Americans settled along- the Sacra- 
mento, but before he had time to do so, Captain Fremont marched rapidly to their 
rescue, collecting- them in his band as he went along, so that by the month of July 
the whole of northei-n California had passed out of the hands of the Mexicans and 
into those of the United States, and Fremont, the conqueror, was made governor 
of the land and raised to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the army. 

Meanwhile the Government had resolved to make a sweeping- conquest of the 
rest of the territory, if possible, and have our possessions extend from ocean to 
ocean. Commodore Sloat, who commanded the United States squadron of the 
Pacific, seized Monterey, where Fremont soon joined him with a hundred and sixty 
mounted riflemen ; and at about the same time there arrived Commodore Stock- 
ton of the navy with orders from Congress to coucpier California. The Mexicans 
still held the southern poi'tion of the territor^>% but the towns of San Francisco, 
Monterey, and Los Ang-eles were all taken without much resistance, and at the 
end of six months the whole of Upper California was surrendered to the United 
States. 

When this was about completed General Kearney arrived with a force of dra- 
goons, and disputed Connnodore Stockton's right to be military governor of the 
territory. A quarrel arose, in which Fremont took the side of the commodore, 



232 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

who liad made him major of tlio California battalion, and civil ^-overnor of th6 
coinitry ; but when the matter was carried to Washiii^i;ton and settled by the 
Government in favor of Kearney, he recog-nized his position and obeyed his orders. 
But the general would not forgive his former allegiance to Commodore Stockton, 
and arrested him and made him return to Wasliington with his own men by the 
overland route, treating him very disrespectfully all the way. "My charges," 
said Fremont, ''are of misconduct, military, civil, political, and nu^i'al, and such 
that, if true, would make me unfit to be anywliere outside of prison." He demanded 
a trial by courl-martial, wliich might have cleared him if he had taken pains to 
get evidence upon his innocence; but as he did not, he was pronounced guilty of 
mutiny and disobedience and ordered to leave the Government service. But 
the court requested President Polk not to confirm their verdict ; he did not, and 
granted Fremont a pardon, with permission to keep his position in the ai-my. 
This he would not accept ; he refused to receive as a favor that to which he had a 
right, or to go about as an officer pardoned of offenses he had never committed. 
So he resigned his commission, and at the age of thii-ty-five became a private 
citizen. 

Although he was still a j^oung man, it seemed to him, for a time, that he had 
nothing to look forward to in life ; but he soon made up his mind to undertake 
another exploring expedition. This had to be on his own responsibility and 
at his own expense ; but he soon succeeded in getting a party together and fitting- 
it out. 

He was doubly anxious now to find some good routes from the States to the new 
possessions on the Pacific, for in February of tliisyear — 1848 — gold had been found 
on the Sacramento River, and many people were already starting out to dig for the 
precious ore. So far there w^as no direct route to California. A long and danger- 
ous journey across Kansas, Colorado, Utah, and Nevada, and through the Bockies 
and Sierras could be made by land, or a voyage by way of the Isthmus of Panama 
could be made by water. These were the best possible ways of getting there. 
Fremont's desire was to find a route Avhich could be made into a safe and direct 
public line of travel, and it was with this ob j(K^t in view that he soon started out with 
his littl(> band. Tliis time he went to tlie South, crossing the northern part of Mex- 
ico, and following the Rio Grande del Norte toward California. The beginning of 
the journey as far as Santa Fc was made successfully ; but from there it became 
a tour of distress— the saddest Fremont ever undertook. The route lay through 
a country inhabited by Indians then at war with the United States, which was 
danger enough ; but added to this, winter was just coming on, and while they 
were in the most perilous part of their journey, among the snow-covered Sierra, 
the guide lost his way. Finally they wei^e forced to turn back, but before they 



John Charles Fremont. 233 

could ,i;-et to Santa F6, one-third of their men had died of cold and hung-er, and all 
of theii" nmles and hoi-ses — over one hundred — had perished. 

Even this teri'ible experience did not a.lt(M' Fremont's i-esolve to find if possible 
a southern pass to the Pacilic coast. He hired thii-ty new men to g"o with him, 
and once more set out, more determined to succeed than ever. After a long- 
search, he was rewarded, for in the spring- of 1849 — when the g-old fever was get- 
ting- to its heig-ht — with the cruel Sierra behind him, he ag*ain came in sig-lit of 
the Sacramento River. 

Two yeai's before he had boug-ht a very larg-e ti-act of land, on which there 
were rich g-old mines, and lie had i-esolved, when he left the States, to remain upon 
these after he had found a southern pass, and not g-o back to the East to live. So 
now he settled down, worked his mines, and beg-an to prepare a home for his 
family. 

The enthusiasm about g-old was drawing- thousands of men to the Territory 
from all parts of America, and from Europe, so that California soon had enoug-h 
people to become a State. Fremont took a g-reat deal of interest in this g-rowth 
in the counti-y he had discovered to the United States and won for the Govei'n- 
nient, and he worked very earnestly to have it made a fi'ee State. Meanwhile he 
was not forg-otten at Washing-ton. Pi-esident Taylor soon called upon him to run 
a boundary line between the United States and Mexico, and when that was done, 
California having' been taken into the Union, he was chosen by the Leg-islature to 
represent the new State in the Senate at the national capital. 

It was during- this term that the King- of Prussia and the Royal Geog-rapliical 
Society of London awarded him the honor of their medals for his services as an 
explorer. 

He went to Europe after his term was over, and was treated with great respect 
by many of the most eminent people of the time. Mr. Fremont spent a few years 
at about this time in looking- after his own affairs, but he had not yet given up 
exploring- the great territory of the West. When — on his return from Europe — 
he found the Government preparing to survey three railroad routes across the 
continent, he again fitted out an expedition of his own to find out a good southern 
route to the Pacific. This time he was successful. He went Avithout mucli diffi- 
culty to the place where the guide had lost his way in the expedition of 1848, and, 
following the course, which had been described to him by the mountain men 
whom he asked, he finally succeeded in picking out a route of safe passes all the 
way to the Golden State. But this was not secured without terrible hardships. 
The country was barren, bleak, and cold ; the provisions of the party gave out, 
and for fifty days the men lived on the flesh of their horses. Sometimes they had 
nothing- at all to eat for forty-eight hours at a time. Progress, too, was slow. 



234 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

For awhile the^^ only made a hundred miles in ten days ; and so deserted was the 
region that for three times that distance, they did not meet a sing-le human be- 
ing-, not even a hardy Indian, for the winter was unusually severe and even the 
savages did not venture far into the dangerous passes, where the air was thick 
and dark with snow and fogs. 

In this terrible distress Fremont feared that his men would be tempted to eat 
each other ; and so he called them to him one day, and in the solemn stillness of 
the great ice mountains he made them take off their hats, raise their hands to 
Heaven, and swear that they would instantly shoot the first man that should at- 
tempt to appease his hunger with the flesh of a comrade. 

Little by little the^^ kept pushing on ; and at last all obstacles were over- 
come, the fair California valleys were reached, and the jaded, frost-bitten band 
entered San Francisco. One man only was missing. He, poor fellow, was cour- 
ageous to the last, and died like a soldier, in his saddle ; and like a soldier his 
comrades buried him on the spot where he fell. The rest, though worn almost 
to skeletons, survived ; and Fremont forgot his sufferings in the joy of having 
gained the object of his journey. He had found for a certainty that a railroad 
could be built over the road he had taken, and that was a success of so great 
value to the nation that even the winter of distress to himself and his band and 
the sad loss of one brave man was a small price for it. 

The Central Pacific Railroad was begun in a few years ; and the region being 
richly stored with vast quantities of iron, coal, and timber, the workmen were 
supplied with much of their materials as they went along. In a dozen years more 
the great task was completed, and cars were running from East to West, carrying 
tourists and emigrants by the thousands and spreading prosperity and civilization 
to the benefit of, not this nation alone, but of all people in the civilized world. 
The Northern and the Southern Pacific roads have followed the first one, open- 
ing up other sections, and calling forth and using the resources of the land all the 
way across the continent, placing our country first among all countries in several 
of the most important articles in the world's commerce. 

Among all the men who have devoted themselves to the success of these roads, 
there is no one to whom the nation owes more than to Fremont, who first sur- 
veyed the regions — northern, central, and southern — and Avho well merits the 
honor of the title, the '' Pathfinder of the Rocky Mountains." 

His map embraces the immense area of land extending from where the Kansas 
flows into Ihe Missouri, to the cataracts of the Columbia, and the Missions of 
Santa Barbara and the Puebla de los Angeles in California. This represents 
about thirteen hundred and sixty miles, or a space of longitude between the 
thirty-fourth and the forty-fiflh parallels of north latitude, and was surveyed 



Charles Wilkes. 235 

with thermometer and barometer as well as land-measuring instruments, so that 
the entire character of the country was shown. 

The survey of the Central Pacific was the last great exploration of his life. In 
1856 he was almost elected President by the then new Republican party, in the 
(Contest with James Buchanan ; he was also named for the next President, but 
Svithdrew in favor of Lincoln. At tlie beginning- of the Civil War he was made 
major-general in the army, and during the first year had command of the Depai't- 
ment of the Mississippi. He lost this because he ordered that slaves should be 
freed b}^ all in his district who were in arms against the Union. President Lincoln 
thought he was taking the step too soon, but gave him another command a few 
months later, from which he resigned in June, 18G2, and left the conflict entirely. 

After that he led a busy, quiet life, and stayed out of politics until about eight 
years ago, when he was made Governor of Arizona. His latest work is a book 
entitled the " Memoirs of my Life, by John C. Fremont." It tells a great deal 
about the history of our country's progress, in which he has taken a very impor- 
tant part. 

Mr Fremont was born in Savannah, Georgia, January 21, 1813. He died at 
his home on Staten Island, Jul}' 13, 1890. 

One of the greatest scientific expeditions that the United States has ever under- 
taken was the Antarctic cruise planned and commanded by Charles Wilkes, 
then a lieutenant, and afterward rear-admiral of the navy. He had been in the 
Government service ever since he was fifteen years old, and was a scientist as 
well as a. sailor. It was he who set up at Washington the first fixed observatory 
in the country, and there were many other important services that he had done 
for the Government, especially in the interest of navigation. His object in this 
expedition, which he made successfully, was to explore and survey the great 
Southern Ocean, in the important interests of our commerce, whale-fisheries, and 
other enterprises ; to find out about all the doubtful islands and shoals, and to 
discover and mark on the charts the position of those islands and shoals that lie 
in or near the route followed by our merchant vessels, and which had been over- 
looked by other scientific navigators. 

The squadron of five vessels and a large body of excellent scientific officers, 
went out from Norfolk, Virginia, on the 18th of August, 1838 — three years before 
Fremont explored the Des Moines River and twelve years before the first Griimell 
Expedition left New York. They first visited the Madeira and Cape Verde 
Islands, and then took their way to Rio de Janeiro, where they laid in port until 
January. Leaving in a body, they soon separated, each to fulfill its special 
errand— to the Antarctic continent and the many islands and coasts of the South 



236 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Sea. After an absence of four years, they returned to the United States, havhit? 
completed a thorough scientific voyage wliich extended around the world. Tlie 
history of this trip was afterward told in five volumes, which came out about 
fort^'^ 3^ears ago, and was received with a great deal of interest in Europe and 
America. 

Lieutenant Wilkes was honored by the Royal Geographical Society of France 
and other institutions on both sides of the globe. 

During the Civil War he was the captain of the San Jacinto who boarded the 
British mail steamer the Trent and captured the Confederate commissioners to 
France, Mr. Mason and Mr. Slidell. At the time, this act was praised by the peo- 
ple and by Congress ; but President Lincoln and Secretary Seward disapproved 
of it — as it was on the same principle that we had fought against in 1812. Eng- 
land was so angry that if the prisoners had not been restored she would have made 
war on us at once. 

Captain Wilkes was made a commodore before the close of the war ; he after- 
ward became the commander of a squadron to the West Indies, and was raised to 
the post of rear-admu^al in 1871. 

He was born in New York City in the year 1801, and died at Washington, 
D. C, February 8, 1877. 

Explorations in the Polar regions of North America began in the first part of 
the seventeenth century, and from that time to this almost all the important 
nations of the world have been continually making efforts to discover the ice- 
bound mysteries of the Arctic circle. From the first, the chief objects were to find 
water-ways around both continents connecting the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. 
The Northeast passage between Europe and Asia was successfull}^ made about 
ten years ago by Russian and Danish expeditions ; while the Northwest passage, 
which was first attemiated by Sebastian Cabot and the brothers Cortereal, was not 
actually found until about the year 1845, in the last expedition of Sir John Frank- 
lin, who perished before he could make his discovery known. 

It was in search of this brave Englishman that the United States undertook 
its first important Polar expedition, in which our greatest Arctic explorer, 
Elislia Kent Kane, made his first journey to the Arctic zone. 

The expedition was started by Mr. Henry Grinnell, a wealthy- New York mer- 
chant, after Lady Franklin's appeal to our Government to send out a search party 
for her lost husband. Mr. Grinnell took up the enterprise at once. He laid the 
plans, and offered two vessels, supplies, extra pay to the men who would volunteer 
to go, and means for about all the other expenses necessary to carr^^ out the search 
and to make the expedition of scientific value. Then he used his influence to get 



Elisha Kent Kane. 



237 



Congress to take charge of it. Volunteer officers were called for from the navy, 
and at last everything- was ready and placed in command of Lieutenant De Haven. 

Dr. Kane was one of the under-ofiicei's — of no higher rank than assistant 
surgeon. 

He was then a young man of thirty years, whose life so far had been a con- 
tinual fight against ill-health. He had heen obliged to give up his early study oi 




Elisha Kent Kane. 

engineering on account of heart disease. Then he had fitted himself to become a 
physician and surgeon ; but at the opening of this career, his health had failed 
ag'ain. Instead of beginning- to practice as soon as he had graduated — which was 
at the University of Pennsylvania — he had to make some plan for travel, in the 
hope of finding a climate where he would not be an invalid. Before long he joined 
the navy and was given the post of surgeon to the United States embassy to 
Cliina. G ladly accepting the chance for so decided a change, he embarked for the 



238 One Hundred Famous Ame?' leans. 

East with Commodore Parker in 1843. Three years he was g-one — years in which 
he visited the Pliilippine Ishinds, China, Farther India, Persia, Syria, and portions 
of Africa and Europe. There was surely chang-e and adveuture enough in this 
tour — and Dr. Kane loved what is daring- and adventurous — hut alter many an 
exploit and curious experience, up the Himalayas, throug-h Greece on foot, up the 
Nile to Nuhia, and on other novel and interesting- tours, he returned to Amei'ica 
in worse health than when he left it. Still he would not give up to being- an 
invalid, and almost as soon as he returned he started off again by an order from 
the Government to visit the west coast of Africa. Before he had been gone a year 
on this trip he was sent home sick fi'om a fever; but he felt himself well enougli 
after he landed to be chang-(>d fi-om the navy to the army so as to go to the Mexi- 
can War. I'lactxl at the head of a connnand lie innnediately startetl southward to 
enter the con diet, which was already begun some time befoi-e. On his way to the 
camp he fell in with a party of Mexicans and was wounded while trying- to save 
some prisoners from being- ill-treated by his own men. This quite disabled him, 
so that he had to return to his home in Philadelphia, where he lay ill until the 
middle of snnnner, and by that time the war was over. 

After going- back to the navy. Dr. Kane was ordered on a cruise to Brazil 
and Portugal, after which he Avas put ui)on the Coast Survey in Mexico. While 
on duty there he heard of Lady Franklin's efforts to g'et the Government to send 
out a party in seai-ch of her husband, and the hearty response which Mr. Grinnell 
had made to her appeal in offering- to pay the expenses if the Government would 
undertake the responsibility and furnish the men. When he learned that the plan 
had been agreed to by Congress, he wrote at once for permission to join the party. 
After quite a long- delay, his request was answered by an order for him to go at once 
to New York and report for duty on the Ai'ctic expedition — called in honor of Mr. 
Griniu>ll the Grinnell Expedition — which was then all read3^ to start from the 
Brooklyn Navy Yard. 

Although in the list of officers Dr. Kane started out as nothing- more than an 
assistant surgeon in the Advanee, when the expedition returned he had the hon- 
orable record of having been the most active and able man in the part^^, as sur- 
geon, naturalist, historian, and general helper. Throug-h all their journey — which 
began on tlie 22d of May, 1850, and did not end until October of the next year- 
he was a zealous worker, on the watch for the object of their search, and wide- 
awake to all discoveries of the region through which they passed. He kept a 
careful account of what was done, what was seen, and all that happened in each 
day, records that were afterward published, and made a most valuable and inter- 
esting history of the expedition. 

Sevei'al times during- the journey Di'. Kane was very sick, but his g-reat interest 



Elisha Kent Kane. 339 

in all tliat was to be seen and done seemed to keep him from breaking down 
entirely. 

This expedition met some British relief ships in Lancaster Sound and accom- 
plishod a joui'ney as far north as a point in Baffin's Bay. They discovered many 
wonderful and impoj-tant thing's about these regions that were before unknown 
to sc'icMice, but they did not succeed in findiug more than a very few traces 
of Sir John Franklin — the graves of three of his men, and a cairn or two and 
a small number of articles which some of them had lost or thrown away. This 
was but small success, but it gave hopes of more, so, a short time after the return, 
Mr. GriiuioU offered the use of the Advance for another trip. This was put 
in charge of Dr. Kane, who had proved himself one of the greatest men of the 
first expedition and able to undertake much moi-e than the duties of an assistant 
surgeou, great as they were at certaiu times, and nobly as he filled them. 

In addition to his other work he had formed a plan by which he thought the 
search could be made more successful than it had been. He believed from the 
observations he had made that Greenland extended even farther to the north 
than the American continent ; he also thought that it was safer to travel by land 
than by water when it was possible, and that by such a route the parties could 
keep themselves supplied with food by hunting. After his return he spent several 
months in carefully thiidving these plans out, in laying them before prominent 
people interested in the search for Frankliu, and in lecturing about them and what 
had been seen in the lirst Grinnell Expedition. In this way he aroused a great deal 
of enthusiasm in the project of another journey. Mr. Grinnell took it up and prep- 
arations went on very rapidly, aided by some of the wealthiest and most distin- 
guished citizens in the country. Mr. George Peabody — the great banker — sent 
ten thousand dollars for it from London. Dr. Kane, too, gave freely of his own 
means and of the money he made by lecturing-. Many others also joined in helping 
along the enterprise, and in May, 1853, three years after the first had started, the 
second Grinnell Expedition left the Brooklyn Navy Yard for the Arctic zone. 
This was far better provided for than the other had been ; it went out under the 
auspices of the Government and the greatest scientific societies of the country. 
Its chief object was to find the Sir John Franklin party, or at least to solve the 
mystery of their fate — for Dr. Kane still believed that some of the number must 
be living somewhere among the remote Es(piimaux villages. 

During all this time Dr. Kane's health was very bad ; and when everything was 
ready, he was hardly able to write to Congress about it ; but he was too coura- 
geous to give up, and besides he knew he would be better in the colder climate. 

In this journey, as in the first one, Dr. Kane was historian. He has told us 
in his '* Arctic Explorations " the full story of the expedition. From New York 



240 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

the Advance carried her party directly to Greenland, Avhere their first sii;ht of 
the cold country of the north was the " broad valleys, deep ravmes, mountains, and 
frowning- black and desolate cliffs '' that burst into view from beneath the dense 
curtain of a lifting- fog-. Then, with icebergs in full view around them, like castles 
in a fairy tale, they worked their way along- the western coast till they reached 
Smith's Sound. Sometimes the commander would spend whole days in the " crow's 
nest" at the top of the mast, looking- out for the best course for the vessel, and 
keenlv watching- for all of interest to then- search. The magnificent views which 
he saw from this lofty perch are often beautifully described in his book. In one 
place he says : " The midnight sun came out over the northern crest of the g-reat 
berg, kindling- variously colored fires on every part of its sm-face, and making the 
ice around us one g-reat resplendency of g-em-woi'k, blazing- carbuncles and rubies, 
and molten gold." 

After being- tossed and crashed about for some time in the g-ales of Smith's 
Sound, it was found impossible to get the Advance through the ice to the shore ; 
so they left her there, and, fitting- up ice-sledges, set out on their search for the 
lost explorers and also to see if better winter quarters coidd be found for the brig-. 
The conunander tells us in his book how both of these errands were in vain, and 
how they came back and prepared to pass the long, cold Arctic night in Rensselaer 
Harbor. Their stores and provisions were carried to a storehouse on Butler's 
Island, and provision depots were also established at intervals further north. This 
work was finished just as the '* long, staring- day," which had clung- to them more 
than two months, was drawing- to a close, and tlie dark night was begimiing to 
settle down ui>on them. It was only at midday that they could see to read the 
figures on the thermometer without a light. The hills seemed like hug-e masses 
of blackness, with faint patches of lig-lit scattered here and there, made by the 
snow. The faithful journal records these days and their doing-s, i-elating- sorrow- 
fully how the dogs fell sick from the darkness and the cold, and almost all of them 
died in a sort of insanity, ending- in lockjaw ; and how g-reat the travelers felt this 
loss when the g-limmering lig-ht of day told them that spring- had come, and the 
time woidd soon be foi- them to go on. 

The stations which they had begun to set up in the fall wei'e intended for pro- 
vision depots, so that when the explorers went out on their sledge journeys to 
search foi- the Franklin pai-ty, they woidd not have to g'o back to the brig every 
time they needed supplies. Now, when the first ray of light ai^peared. Dr. Kane 
sent out a party with a load of provisions to establish another depot still further 
to the north : but they were overtaken by a gale and lost their way. They would 
have died if three of the men had not been able to grope their way back to the 
vessel. Benumbed and exhausted, thev stumbled into the brig-, unable to talk. 



Elisha Kent Kane. 241 

But Dr. Kane knew their errand without the aid of words, and hurried to the res- 
cue of the others, with tlie strong-est men in the boat. Guided almost by instinct, 
he soon found them Iniddled tog-ether and barely alive. " We knew 3'ou would 
come,'' they said ; " we were watching- for you." He and his comrades had had a 
long- marcli to find them, and had taken no sleep meanwhile, so they were sufTer- 
ing- themselves by this time ; but they did not stop to rest ; it had to be quick 
work to save their comrades' lives. They sewed them up ui thick bag-s of skin, 
then, putting- them in the sledges, i\\Qj started back to the brig-. This was a 
journe^^ of most terrible suffering- from cold, hung-er, fatigue, and sleeplessness — 
for it Avas more dang-erous to lie down to sleep in the cold than to keep on. 
After awhile nearly all the men were overcome with drowsiness and grew deliri- 
ous ; they reeled and stumbled as the^^ walked, and finally one sat down and 
declared that he would sleep before he stirred another step. Dr. Kane let him 
sleep three minutes and then awakened him, then another three minutes and 
awakened him, till he was quite rested. This worked so well that all were allowed a 
few such short naps before the march was taken up again. But in spite of all their 
efforts to keep up, all but three — Dr. Kane and two others — g-ave out before they 
reached the brig. These poor fellows stumbled on to the last, so delirious that 
they never could remember how they finally g-ot to the vessel. There they were 
at once taken care of and fresh men were sent out after the fallen ones, who were 
only five miles away. Two of the party that were rescued died from the terrible 
exposure. All the others g-ot well. 

A few more such attempts and perilous searches were made with ill-success and 
g-reat sickness, and another winter came and went. Then, as the vessel was still 
so firmly frozen in the ice that it was impossible to g-et her out, Dr. Kane gave the 
order to leave her to her fate, and to prepare for an overland journe}- to Uperna- 
vik, a whaling- station on the west coast of Greenland. Tliis was thirteen hundred 
miles away to the southeastward ; and, as all the stores the party would need had 
to be hauled from one station to another, the journey was a long and tiresome one. 
Meanwhile the people at home Avere Avatching for news of the expedition and wlien 
the second Avinter came on and Dr. Kane did not return, they began to feel anxious, 
and fitted out a relief expedition to g'o in search of him. It left Ncav Yorlv at 
about the same time that the disabled explorers started on their soutliAvard jour- 
ney, and Avhile it Avas sailing- through the open seas of the North Atlantic, Kane 
and his men Avere strugglmg- over ice and snow, all other thought lost but that 
of saving- their lives. This was the most perilous journey of the A\hole expedition ; 
the toil and cold Avere severe enough, but besides these they had continually to 
cross g-aps in the ice, in Avhich thej^ Avere drenched Avith Avater. When they reached 
a larg-e opening- and took to their boats— Avhicli they had to carry over the ice— 



242 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

they were almost always in danger of being- crushed in the floes. But, worse 
than all these trials, was that of hunger. Their provisions ran so low that a fort- 
unate shot at a seal was all that saved them from starving several times. At 
last the^^ caught glimpses of open water, beyond the ice, and began to see signs of 
human beings ; a row-boat appeared, then a whaler, and finally they sighted the 
safe harbor of Upernavik. Here the rescue party found them, just as they were 
about to take passage in a Danish vessel for the Shetland Islands ; and the heroic 
little band of the Second Grinnell Expedition reached New York on the 11th of 
October, 1855. 

They had not succeeded in finding any of the Franklin party, which was a 
great disai^pointment to Dr. Kane and to all who had taken part in the expedition ; 
but they had made such important discoveries and explorations that Congress 
awarded the gallant commander a gold medal ; the Royal Geographical Society 
of London gave him another, and the Queen another ; in fact, it is said that prob- 
abl3^ no explorer and traveler, acting in a private capacity as such, has ever re- 
ceived greater tributes of respect. 

What the expedition did accomj)lish was to survey and make charts of the 
north coast of Greenland to where it ends in the great Humboldt glacier, to sur- 
vey this glacial mass — which is beautifully described in Kane's book — and to ex- 
plore the new land beyond, which"is named Washington. They also discovered a 
large channel to the northwest, quite free from ice, leading into an open and much 
larger body of water, also quite free from ice, which together form an iceless area 
of forty-two hundred miles that is now known as the Open Polar Sea. They dis- 
covered and made charts of a large tract of land north of the American continent, 
and took a complete survey of the American coast to the south and west as far as 
Cape Sabine. This survey adjoined to that of Captain Inglefield, made about a 
3^ear before, and completed the circuit of the straits and bay that are known at 
their southernmost opening as Smith's Sound. 

As soon as he reached home Dr. Kane set himself to Avork to prepare at once 
the " Narrative " of the expedition. His health was unusually good Avhen he 
returned, but this task — which would have been a great one for a man used to 
quiet writing habits — was more than he could stand. His strength began to fail 
rapidly, and as soon as the books were finished he was so ill that he sailed for Eng- 
land at once, hoping that that climate would help him. In London he grew 
worse so fast, that he took passage for home by way of the West Indies ; but he 
never reached the end of the journey. 

Dr. Kane was born m Philadelphia, February 20, 1820, He died at Havana, 
Cuba, February 10, 1857. 



Isaac Israel Hayes. 



243 



The next party that left the United States for the Arctic regions, the nortli- 
east coast of America, was commanded by Isaac I. Hayes, who wjis surgeon 
on the Advance in Dr. Kane's last expedition. He, too, had retm-ned with the 
rescue partj^, firml^^ believing- that an open Polar sea had been found, and he 
began at once to plan another expedition to make sure of this and to push other 
discoveries into the mysteries beyond the eig'liteentli pai'allel. 




Isaac Israel Hayes. 



Dr. Hayes was also a Pennsylvania man and had graduated from the Medical 
School of the University of Pennsj^lvania the year in which he started out wit Ii 
Dr. Kane. He was only twenty-one years old then, but he showed that he had the 
enterprise and the ability that is necessary to make a good explorer. More than 
one of the sledge-journeys made from the Advance were in his charge, and he 
also did some of the most important chart-making woi-k of the expedition. So, 
when he wanted to make up another party, his plan was encouraged by the 



244 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Smithsonian Institution, the Government, and some of the most important scien- 
tific societies in the workl. Five years after the second Grinnell Exjx'dition 
returned, and three years after Dr. Kane's death, he set out from Boston Hai'bor 
much better prepared for his undertaking- than any former American expedition 
had been. 

The hardships which make up so large a part of the story of all Northern 
explorers fell in full share upon Dr. Hayes and his little band in the schooner 
United States. Such trials as were described in the account of Dr. Kane's jour- 
ney have been the experiences of all who have ventured within the icy region of the 
Arctic circle, either for the help of men or the cause of science. Ice, snow, bitter 
cold, and often iatigue, hunger, waut of sleep, and lost bearings make tlie fi'ame in 
which the picture of all that they have done is set. But to balance tliese trials, the 
exploT-ers have found a g-reat deal in those northern seas that is more g-rand and 
wonderful than the sights of any other part of the world. Off the coast of Green- 
land Dr. Hayes wrote: " It seems as if we had been drawn by some unseen hand into 
a land of enchantment ; here was the Valhalla of the sturdy Vikings, here the city 
of Sungod Fryer — Alfheim with its elfin caves, and Glitner, more brilliant than 
the sun, the home of the happy ; and there, piercing- the clouds, was Himnborg-, 
the celestial mount. It is midnight; tlie sea is snu)oth as glass, not a rii)ple 
breaks its surface, not a breatli of air is stirring. The sun hangs close upon the 
northern horizon; the fog has l)i'oken up into light clouds; the icebergs lie thick 
about us ; the dark headlands stand boldly ag-ainst the sky ; and the clouds and 
bergs and mountains are bathed iu an atmosphei-e of crimson and gold and purple 
most singularly beautiful. The air is warm almost as a summer night at home, 
and yet there are the icebergs and the bleak moiud-ains. The sky is bright, soft, 
and inspiring as the skies of Italy ; the bergs have lost their chilly appearance, 
and, glittering- in the blaze of the brilliant heavens, seem in the distance like 
masses of burnished metal or solid llanie." 

In the midst of this glorious picture, the g-ood schooner sailed on, to Proven 
and to Upernavik, from whence she headed north to Tessuissak — " the place 
where tliei-e is a. bay." Six weeks from the time she left Boston, the party, now 
larger by several natives, hunters, and Danish sailors taken aboard at Girenland, 
entered Melville Bay in a thick snow-storm. Pretty soon they had to build their 
snow-houses, set up their stations, and make the regular pn^parations for winter. 
In the spring they worked their way further northward up Smith's Sound. Then 
taking a companion and starting- out on a sledge-journey Dr. Hayes went over 
al)out the same route he had followed before on one of his journeys from the 
Advance. All the way he made cai'eful observations, especially to correct errors 
that he found in the charts made on the last trip. Pushing up Kennedy's Chan- 



Isaac Israel Hayes. 245 

nel he finally got bej^ond the hmits of the former discoveries, and reached the 
lower cape at the entrance to Lady Franklin Bay. This was a point forty miles 
further than that attained b^^ Dr. Kane on the opposite shore, when he had ex- 
plored the east and Dr. Hayes the west shore of this channel — which they both 
believed led to the Open Polar Sea. At this place— which he named Cape Lieber 
— he unfurled several United States flags which had been given him to open at the 
most northerly point in his journey. He did not find a clear sea here ; but the 
ice was thin and decayed, and he felt sure that open water lay beyond, though it 
was then impossible for him to push any further north to prove it. After making- 
a great many careful scientific observations, he started back to the schooner, which 
passed the early part of the summer in Hartstene Bay, while the party spent most 
of the time in making discoveries round about them, watching the action of the 
tide and studying the habits of the Esquimaux. 

In the middle of July the schooner broke out of the ice, and the homeward jour- 
ney was begun. For a long distance Dr. Hayes surveyed the coast as he went, 
gathering specimens of plants and natural history and all the scientific informa- 
tion possible. At last the vessel was out of the Arctic regions, and a direct route 
was taken for Boston. He reached port after an absence of fifteen months, and 
found the country resounding with the news of war, the battle of Ball's Bluff hav- 
ing been fought but a few days before the party landed. 

Dr. Hayes at once offered his vessel and himself to the Union cause, and it was 
not until after the conflict was over that he brought out the narrative of his jour- 
ney. This book, which is called the " Open Polar Sea," was thought so well of 
that the royal geographical societies of both London and Paris awai'ded gold med- 
als to its author, while many other honors were paid him for liis valuable services 
to the cause of science and geographical knowledge. 

Two years after this book was published Dr. Hayes again went to Greenland, 
and explored the south coasts of that country. He then studied the regions of 
the north for the sake of their beauty and historic interest more than for scien- 
tific knowledge. He observed the great Greenland glaciers and icebergs, visited 
the places where the Northmen had their colonies in olden times, and finally took 
his vessel — a steam-yacht called the Panther — up into the much-dreaded ice-pack 
of Melville Bay. Accounts of this journey are given in the book entitled " The 
Land of Desolation." 

After his return he went into politics, and was for a time a member of the New 
York Legislature, although he never lost his interest in the Arctic regions, nor 
ceased to write about them. 

Dr. Isaac Israel Hayes was born in Chester County, Pennsylvania, March 
5, 1832. He died in New York City, December 17, 1881. 



246 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

A few weeks after the United States bore Dr. Hayes and his party away from 
Boston Harbor on their scientific voyag-e to the Polar Sea, another expedition left 
New London, Connecticnt, to renew tlie Franldin search. This was a simple affair 
of two men, Charles Francis Hall and a native Esquimaux for an inter- 
preter. 

Mr. Hall was a noble-hearted, energetic man of Cincinnati, an eng-raver by 
trade, poor, and about forty years old. Since the first Grinnell Expedition went 
out he had been most deepl^^ interested in every attempt that had been made to 
find the lost explorers, and soon after the failure of Dr. Kane's heroic effort, he 
came forward with a new plan by which he felt sure they could be discovered ; 
for Mr. Hall — like many others — still firmlj^ believed that some of the party at 
least were still living-, although sixteen years had then passed since they left Eng- 
land. The plan which he proposed for finding them was, for the rescue party to 
go prepared to live just as the natives lived, and to travel about with them over 
the country where it was supposed that Sir John was lost. 

While he was thinking this over he heard that the British relief ship Resolute 
had been laid up as a hulk in the Mediterranean, and he decided to make an effort 
to secure it and begin preparations. He interested Governor Chase, of Ohio, and 
several prominent citizens enough to get them to sign a petition to the British 
Government for the use of the ship to take him to join Sir Francis McClintock, an 
Englishman who had gone on a search expedition a little more than a year before. 
He then sent out a circular calling upon all lovers of man and science to assist in 
fitting out this expedition. Leaving Cincinnati soon after that, he came to the 
Eastern cities, visited Mr. Grinnell, the relatives of Dr. Haj^es, and several others 
who had taken an interest in former expeditions, who met his efforts with a hearty 
response. In the midst of their active preparations word came from England that 
McClintock had returned with the good news that he had found traces of the lost 
party in King William Land. In a tin cylinder, underneath a pile of stones, he 
had found a paper which stated that Sir John Franklin and twenty-six of his 
men were dead. But one hundred and thirty-seven liad gone out, and hopes of 
finding the others now helped to speed on Mr. Hall's plan very swiftly. Mr. 
Grinnell again lent his aid, and a generous firm of New London offered free pas- 
sage for the expedition as far as Northumberland Inlet, on their whaler, the 
George Henry, On this Hall set out on the 39th of May, 1860. His outfit was 
small but complete, and his only companion was an Esquimaux man, who had 
come down to New England from Greenland on the George -Henry's last trip. It 
was a tiny expedition, but not a weak one, for Hall was a host in himself, as he 
afterward proved. 

Difficulties began at the outset. The Esquimaux died soon after the vessel 



Charles Francis Hatl. 247 

left port ; head-winds made her tardy in reaching- her winter quarters, and during 
the winter Mr. Hall lost his expedition boat, which was all that he had depended on 
for reaching- King William Land from Northumberland Inlet. Nothing could 
now be done without a new outfit, and as it was several months before the whaler 
could get out of the ice, he had time to study the Esquimaux language and to 
make several sledge-journeys into the interior so as to get some idea of what experi- 
ences were before him. In these he gained a great deal of useful knowledge about 
the country, made friends with some of the people, and carried on some very val- 
uable scientific explorations. His companions on these sledg-e-journeys were a very 
intellig-ent Esquimaux man and his wife—" Joe and Hannah " he named them — 
and another man whom he had befriended. The woman used to track the 
snow in front of the dog- team while her husband drove, and at night she would 
start the light in the stone lamp to dry the wet clothing, while the men built 
the snow-hut for their shelter. 

They were out forty-three days on the first trip, and Mr. Hall learned from 
that how many days would have to be spent in the future— making but little prog- 
ress, suffering greatly from cold and hung-er, and having- nothing to eat but 
frozen whale-hide. But in spite of these suffering-s he was encouraged to go on 
with his plans. 

Gradually the winter passed away; spring" came, and then the summer, in 
w^hich the captain of the George Henry had expected to sail for home. But the 
ice-pack still held her fast, and there was nothing to do but remain until the next 
summer, when she might be freed. Before that time came provisions began to 
fail, and the second winter would have seen suffering- for food, if Hall had not been 
able to go to the natives and ask for provisions whenever their larder was empty. 
In this way he kept the party alive. Then, when the men on shipboard fell sick 
of the scurvy — a disease that attacks almost every exploring- party in the north 
country — he had them taken to live in the huts, where they soon g-ot well on the 
native "igloo" food. This proved that his idea that the white men could live 
v/ith the Esquimaux was correct. During- this second fall and winter he made 
many short excursions into the country, and in the spring- he set out on a long- 
exploring- tour of two months. 

In August — after a stay of two years — the George Henry was released from 
the ice and started for home, carrying- Hall back in quest of fresh supplies and 
another boat. He now felt surer than ever that his plan would succeed. 

Hannah and Joe returned with him on a visit to the United States, bringing 
their baby and seal dog with them. Thej^ were very much interested in all the 
wonders of civilization that they saw; and the people of civilization were equally 
interested in them. 



248 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Mr. Hall found it very hard work to fit out his second expedition. The long- 
and costly conflict of the Civil War had heg-un while he was away ; and the Gov- 
ernment had more expenses than it could comfortably meet already, and many of 
the people Avho had g-iven money for the search before, now felt too poor to do so. 
But he was not discourag-ed, and soon managed by lecturing- to earn what funds 
he needed to prepare himself for another journey. The 3IonticelIo, a whaler 
bound for the regions about Hudson's Straits, offered him free passage for the 
little party and the outfit, and in that vessel they started in July, 1864. Thej' 
made a direct route to Frobisher's Bay, and there took on board four Esquimaux, 
with their wives and sledges, who, with Joe and Hannah, were to be Mr. Hall's 
companions after he left the vessel. 

Through some mistake in the reckoning, instead of landing the travelers at the 
mouth of the Wager River — from which Mr. Hall intended to journey by boat to 
Repulse Bay and be ready to start in the spring for King William Land — the 
captain let them off forty miles south of the mouth of the river, which made it im- 
possible to reach Repulse Bay that fall. It took them nine months to get to their 
proper landing-place, and then they had to wait till spring before setting out for 
Repulse Bay. Thus a whole year was lost. But Mr. Hall did not lose heart. He 
lived with the natives as one of them, and in the spring of 1865 again started 
northward — not on a smooth, rapid journey, but on a slow, vexatious one. His 
Esquimaux companions felt none of his anxiety to hasten onward, and sometimes 
they would not travel more than two or three miles a day. This was an unlooked- 
for trouble, but, while it greatly hindered his work, it did not thwart him entirely. 

One day, as the little party was journeying along, tliey met a band of natives 
who had seen Franklin. They described him and showed articles that had belonged 
to some of his men. They said that the ship was crushed in the ice and that some 
of their boats were found with dead men in them. This information made Mr. 
Hall more anxious than ever to push on; but the Esquimaux still dallied, stop- 
ping on one pretext or another after every little march. Even the faithful Joe and 
Hannah were swayed by the superstitions of their countrymen, and with them, at 
last, refused to go any further. The end of the second season found them back on 
Repulse Bay—" disappointed hut not discouraged," wrote Hall in his diary. 

The next spring he made a final and resolute start for King William Land, 
taking with him this time only Joe and Hannah, a white man named Rudolph who 
had gone with him from the whaler, and one of the Esquimaux who was more do- 
cile than the rest. As he neared Ig-loo-lik, in Melville Peninsula, the natives told 
hhn that white men had often been seen there ; and a little further on he discov- 
ered a place where a tent had been made, but he found no records. The winter 
was spent on the Peninsula, and the next summer he reached the long-desired 



Charles Francis Hall. 249 

King" William Land. Here he found some of the remains of the missing party, 
and learned that the Erebus and Terror, Sir John's vessels, had made the north- 
west passage and perished there. 

So at last he had succeeded in learning the fate of the unfortunate party. He 
found some articles that they had left, learned that there were books and records 
further on, and wanted to go in search of them and the bodies of the explorers, 
but his companions refused to go with him, and he had to give it up. Making his 
way southward, just below Repulse Bay, he took passage in a whaler, bound for 
New England ; and in the early part of 18G9, with Joe, Hannah, and a little adopted 
child, he landed at Bedford, Massachusetts, with his precious relics of the lost 
Englishmen. He went straight to New York, and within a month was at work, 
for another expedition — this time to find the North Pole and also to get the Frank- 
lin records about which the natives had told him. Lectures and writings awoke a 
great deal of interest in his project. Congress voted fifty thousand dollars for it ; 
and in June of 1871 the Polaris left New York with a party of able scientific 
men and a good crew, placed by the Government under the command of Mr. Hall. 
By the end of August they had reached a point further north than any white man 
had ever yet been, and in a few months they set out on a sledge- journey toward 
the Pole, finding the country warmer than they had expected, and abounding in 
game. It was too near winter to press all the way on, but they returned to the 
Polaris well satisfied with their survey, and much surer than before that they 
should finally succeed ; but the night they returned to the vessel. Captain Hall was 
taken with an attack of apoplexy, and in two weeks he died. 

Charles F. Hall was born in Rochester, New Hampshire, some time in the j^ear 
1821. He died on the steam-tug Polaris, in Newman's Bay, on the west coast of 
Greenland, November 8, 1871. 

After this the Polaris party attempted to continue their explorations under 
the command of Captain S. O. Buddington ; they passed almost a year of terrible 
distress, during which all hopes of pushing the North Pole explorations had to be 
given up, although they kept up their scientific observations where they were. 
They became separated about a year after Captain Hall's death by a sudden crack 
in the floe in which the vessel was caught, part of the men being on the floe with 
a quantity of provisions and part of them being in the vessel, which they were un- 
loading. After a long time of terrible distress, the floe party was found by a 
barkentine from Newfoundland, which took them to St. John's, where they em- 
barked in a United States steamer for Washington. On their return the Govern- 
ment promptly sent out a relief party to find the Polaris, but her party had al- 
ready been rescued by a Scotch whaler from which they had been taken on board 



250 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

some other vessels, fitted for passeiig-ers — Avliich the whaler was not. Part of 
them were thus taken directly to Now Yoi-k, while the remainder were cariied to 
Dundee, Scotland, and crossed the Atlantic to get home. 

The first Arctic visit of Georg'e W. De Long was made as under-officer in 
the Juniata on the relief expedition for the Polaris. The second— and famous one 
— was started in 1879 to carry out by the way of Behring- Strait Captain Hall's 
unfinished enterprise of reaching the North Pole. 

Commander De Long had then been in the navy for fifteen years. His boyliood 
was passed in Brooklyn, New York, jealously guarded from every possible danger 
to his person and his character by his loving mother. He went regularly to 
school and straight home again, studied hard and thoroughly'. Being hemmed 
in by too anxious care, his spirit and energy found their only vent in his active 
mind. He was, says his wife, a fiery little orator and writer, of a restless dis- 
position, and filled Avith an uneasy desire for larger liberty. 

When he was about twelve years old he found some tales of naval exploits in 
the War of 1812, and from that time forward he was filled with longing for a 
heroic life. It was .years that he contested with his parents for it ; and at last he 
only gained their permission to enter the Naval Academy, on the condition, which 
he proposed himself, of his securing his own appointment. This he actually did — 
though his father and mother thought it would be impossible when they consented 
to his request — and entered at Annapolis in the fall of the year in Avhich the 
Civil War broke out. Just as the confiict came to a close he graduated with dis- 
tinction, having done able, vigorous work during the whole course. His appoint- 
ment in the navy was soon made. Although he was only a ''midd^^" at first 
he rose rajiidly, and after he had been four years in the service he held the 
rank of lieutenant. In 1871 he obtained a leave of absence for tAvo years, Avliich 
he spent in Europe, and which was marked by the happy event of his mariiage 
to Miss Emma Wolien, at Havre, France. 

For a time he was attached to the service of the Fi'ench line of transatlantic 
steamers. Then he went on the Polar Expedition in the Juniata, where he showed 
that he had the traits necessary for an explorer, by the way he took command of 
a part}'- that set out in a steam-launch to make some searches further north than 
the Juniata could be taken. 

After his return to the United States, Lieutenant De Long directed the train- 
ing-ship St. Mary's at New York for about two years, and resigned from that 
duty to take command of the Jeanette Expedition, which was fitted out by Mr. 
Bennett, the owner of the New York Herald. 

The story of this long joui'ney of distress from San Francisco to the Arctic 



John Rodgers. 251 

coast of Asia was told onl^^ a few j^ears ag'o in the '' Voyag-e of the Jemiette," 
wliich is the record left in the journals of the commander and his party, edited by 
Mrs. De Long-. 

Lieutenant De Long- was born in New York City, August 22, 1844. He died 
in the Lena Delta, Siberia, some time in November, 1881. 

Among- the most important cruises in the Arctic seas on the western side of 
our continent, was that of the sloop of war Vincennes, under the command of 
John Rodg-ers, of the United States Navy. He had alread3^ served under Lieu- 
tenant Wilkes in the South Sea explorations, and had made an honorable record in 
the Seminole and the Mexican Wars. He Avas a brave and energetic explorer. In 
his cruise of two years, he went to the Cliina Seas ; from there to Behring- Strait 
and along- the coasts of the Northern Pacific Ocean and the Arctic Seas — surveying 
the harbors and the sliores as he went along. He exploi-ed the waters and the shel- 
tering inlets where merchant ships and fishing and trading- vessels go, sought out 
localities where coal could be found , sounded all that portion of the Northern Pa- 
cific which can be used for whaling, and made many other careful observations in 
the interest of all navigation. 

His vessel arrived at San Francisco two days after the relief party returned to 
the Brooklyn Navy Yard, bringing Dr. Kane home from his second expedition. 

In the Civil War, which broke out in a few j^ears, he distinguished himself by 
gallant service. Later he was raised to the rank of rear-admiral, commanded the 
Asiatic squadron, and in 1871 bombarded the forts of Corea. He was noted for 
calm, cool courage, and superior ability. His brother officers in the navy looked 
upon him as one of the foremost naval men of this century. 

Admiral Rodg-ers was born in Maryland, Aug-ust 8, 1812. He died May 5, 1882. 



REFORMERS AND PHILANTHROPISTS. 



THE ti'reatest reform that has yet taken place — or probably ever will — in this 
country was the abolition of slavery, the entire breaking- np of the right of 
white people to buy, sell, or own human being-s. 

The chief leader in this great movement was William Lloyd Garrison, 
a Massachusetts man of wonderful courage and force of character. He began 
very early to make his own way m the world, for his mother was left with a little 
family and no means of su})port — excepting her own work as professional nurse — 
when William was quite a little boy. At the age of nine he commenced to work 
at the shoemaker's trade in Lynn. But the work did not siut him, and he longed 
for an education, so when a chance soon came to go back to Newburyport, his 
native town, and attend school, he gladly accepted, although he had to pay for his 
board and tuition by sawing wood, doing- errands, and other out-of-door tasks 
above school hours. Even this could only be a short privilege, and he g-ave 
himself entirely to work again before he was fifteen. 

After several changes he settled to the trade of printing, and began to learn in 
the office of the Newburyport Herald. It was not long before he became an excellent 
workman, and feeling an interest in the business beyond his case of type, he 
began to Avrite articles, which were sent without his name, and printed in the 
Herald and other journals. A set of papers that came out in the Salem Gazette 
attracted enough attention to set the 3^oung author's heart throbbing with pleasure 
and hope for the future. So, when his time of apprenticeship was over, he began 
to conduct a paper of his t>wn. But it was not successful, and he gave it up, and 
in the next year, after working as journeyman printer for a time, he took the 
position of editor of the National P/iilaufJiropist. This was published in Boston 
and was the first paper in the coinitry devoted to the cause of '' total abstinence " 
from the use of any liquors or intoxicating drinks. 

He was a devout Christian, and j^ear by year his interest grew in good works 
among men, such as are called philanthropy and reform. After about a year on 



William Lloyd Garrison. 



253 



the Pliilanthropist ho joined a friend at Benning-ton, in Vermont, and carried on 
a journal entirely devoted to peace, temperance, and anti-slavery. 

Some years before. Garrison had become very much interested in the struggle 
of the Greeks for freedom, and from that had been aroused to the cause of liberty 
and the rights of men ever^^where. He saw the evil of slavery in his own nation, 
and a great desire grew in him to have it put down, or driven out, and all the 
bondmen freed. He went to see some of the leading preachers of the time, to try 




William Lloyd Garrison. 

to induce them to take hold of the matter with all their strength, offei'ing his 
own aid whatever call mig'lit come. But they all refused. Meanwliile a quiet 
little Quaker gentleman of Baltimore was reading Garrison's articles, and think- 
ing* about him, because he, too, was interested in anti-slavery. This was Benja- 
min Lvmd;y-, of Baltimore, who published a small joui-nal called the Genius of 
Universal Eniancipatiou,. It was not an important sheet in his hands. A few 
people opposed to slavery subscribed for it and read it, but it was of so little 
account that the Southerners scarcely took any notice of it, This was just what 



254 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

its owner wanted to overcome, and he thoug-lit likely the young- New Eng'lander 
would he the man to help him. So he journeyed on foot from Baltimore, Mary- 
land, to Benning-ton, Vermont, and, after he found out where he could see Mr. 
Garrison, he made a call on him, and asked him to go home with him and edit the 
Genius of Universal Emancipation. The offer was heartily accepted, and from 
that moment the life-work of William Llo^^d Garrison was for the one object of 
innnediately driving slavery out of the United States. 

He made the editorials of the little paper ring for tlie cause of the negroes. It 
was no longer passed by as harmless. He denounced slaveholders and slave- 
dealers, and said so many strong and bitter things that he was sued for libel, tried, 
and put in prison before long, and remained there for nearly two months, until 
Mr. Arthur Tappan, then a great merchant and anti-slavery man of New York, 
paid the enormous fine demanded to let him out. 

A great time was made about this imprisonment. It was interfering with the 
liberty of the press — that is, the right of new^spapers to speak out on all subjects 
—and the newspapers of the North, the Manumission Societj^ of North Carolina, 
Henry Clay, and many others — though they did not approve of the wa}^ in which 
Mr. Garrison had set to work — spoke out boldly against his being- imprisoned. 

Not at all frightened, but more determined than ever, as soon as lie was freed 
Garrison prepared a course of lectures on emancipation and delivered them in New 
York and other places. Going back to Boston he began to publish the famous 
Liberator. This was a weekly journal with the motto, " My country is the world, 
my countrymen are all mankind," and its columns were full of decided, uncompro- 
mising anti-slaver}^ articles, and unsparing denunciation of slavery and all people 
that had anything to do with it. 

It needed a great deal of courage and labor to get out this paper. Mr. Garrison 
had no money, no place in society, and even the churches of New England had 
disowned him. At first he and his partner, Isaac Knapp, could not even afford 
to hire an office, but they got the paper printed by working as journeymen print- 
ers upon the Christian E.vaniiuer and taking their pay in the use of the Exami- 
ner's type. All the work on the Liberator — writing, type-setting, and printing — 
was done after the regular day's work. Very soon some money came into it from 
other Abolitionists, and a little out-of-the way office was taken, where Mr. Garrison 
and his partner did their work, got their own meals, and made their bed on the 
floor. He was an excellent workman. On the first paper he owned he used to set 
up his editorials without lii'st wi-iling them out; ever\tliing lie wrote was })erfoct 
for the press as he penned it, and the Liberator was alwa^^s one of the handsomest 
looking papers in circulation. 

Some people in the North were full of the same spirit, and looking upon Garri- 



William Lloijd Garrison. 255 

Kriw as the great leader of a great cause, were full of sympathy Avith him in all he 
said and did. But many disapproved of him, and good society would have noth- 
ing to do with such fanatical folks. In the South, slaveholders and dealers were 
even more bitter against him than he toward them, and by almost every mail 
they threatened his life if he did not stop his paper. It was not safe for him to go 
about unarmed, but he did so, not believing- in saving one life hy taking another, or 
even being- prepared to do so. The State of Georgia oWered five thousand dollars 
to any one who would prosecute and convict him according- to the laws of that 
State. Even this did not daunt him, but spurred him on to another decided step. 
This was the forming- of an anti-slavery society in New Eng-land. 

The Mayor of Boston was called upon time after time to suppi'ess the Liberator; 
and in 1835 Garrison himself was mobbed and dragged through the streets of 
Boston by a band of his angry countrymen. But he kept on in his powerful work 
ag-ainst the evil, wielding- a pen mightier than any sword, for thirty-five years, 
till he saw the black man and the black woman in Amei'ica as free, by law at 
least, as their white brothers and sisters. 

Meanwhile he was also at work in other places than the Liberator's office. 
He made a trip to Eng-land to spread the feeling- in Europe, and on his return 
founded the great American Anti-Slavery Society in Philadelphia. These were 
not the first abolition societies of the country. One had been formed in this city 
the same year that the Declaration of Independence was made, upon the g-round 
that slavery was a moral and religious wrong. Franklin, Wasliington, Jeffer- 
son, and Hamilton — two Northerners and two Southerners — and many other of 
the foremost men in the country had been strong-l}^ opposed to the custom. Those 
of them who owned slaves were kind and good masters, and would have willingly'- 
freed them at any time. But tiiey had felt that the practice would die out, and 
the mass of people were indifferent to the real importance of it. The custom was 
as old as the world. It had existed in all countries, civilized and barbarous, and 
was brought to America by some of the first settlers. In the Northern Colonies, 
the effect of the climate was to make people hardy and energ-etic. Life was not 
easy to them, and they learned to expect toil and rugg-ed training. Such people 
had little need of slaves, so they did not g-row to any importance, and were finally 
freed by law. But in the South it was different. It was another and less active 
class of people that settled the Southern Colonies. They were of wealthy old Eng- 
lish, French, and Spanish families, largely", who had always had slaves, or very 
readily fell into the way of it. Beside, the country there raised sugar-cane, to- 
bacco, indigo, and cotton on great plantations. The care of these crops required 
many hands, and not such active or intelligent work as the industries of the 
North ; so, while slavery was g-radually dying out in the upper Colonies, it g-rew 



256 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

very fast in the lower ones ; and the King- of England was willing- that it should, 
and himself took an active share in the slave trade, and refused to let any of the 
Colonies forbid it. For, even then, there were men and women in America, as in 
other counti-ies, that felt that one person had no right to own the life of another, 
and use it as he thoug-lit best, for good or for evil. 

Many of the early statesmen were very outspoken in their views of this mat- 
ter, and made decided efforts to put the custom down when the States were first 
organized after the Revolution. The matter was never entirely dropped, but It 
was not firmly g-rasped and grappled with, and so for more than half a century 
it took its natural course, dying- out in the North and growing in the South, 
although many Southerners were opposed to it. Some freed their slaves, and 
a few took sides against the custom in public debates, but the mass of the people 
were in favor of it. 

Some of the reformers hoped to bring- the people of the whole country to see the 
evil of it, to prove that negroes could be made respectable and intelligent citizens, 
and then to have laws made by which all slavery would be gradually abolished. 
Others, like Garrison, said that it must be driven out at once, and they almost 
said at whatever cost. But the majority in the South were determined that it should 
never come to pass in any way. The Abolitionists, they said, might do as they 
liked, but they must let them alone ; and as for slavery to them it was right and 
good, and if the reformers tried to spread their ideas through the country, they 
were simply interfering with the Southerners' rights. So, although a great many 
other questions came in about States' rights, the great pivot upon which the 
affairs of the nation turned for about forty years, was slavery. 

But it was Garrison who made the feeling against it in the North, and who 
brought the matter to its final issue. He began single-handed, and undaunted by 
all manner of disrespect, threats of property, life, and imprisonment, and attempt- 
ed assassination, he kept his course and pushed steadily onward to assert and gain 
the right of men to all humanity, and in doing so he probably exerted a stronger 
iniluence upon his own times, and perhaps upon the history of the United States, 
than any other one person. It has been said that he was to the abolition of sla- 
very what Sanuiel Adams was to independence— a man looked upon with 1 he great- 
est dread as an extremist and a fanatic, and that too by many of those who after- 
ward fought in battle for the very same cause. He was the leader in all that the 
Abolition part.\' did ; his name was on the lips of every mob that attacked their 
meetings, and once his own person was seized and roughly dragged through the 
Boston streets by people whom the papers of the day described as "gentlemen of 
property and standing." 

In 1840 he went again to England, to attend the World's Anti-Slavery Conven- 



William IJoijd Garrison. 257 

tion, of which he was one of the most disting-iiished members. But, as the women 
deleg-ates from this country — Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and several 
other noble-hearted ladies — sent by the American societies were not allowed to take 
their places, he would not either, A few years later he became President of the 
American society, and he held that othce for- twenty-two years. When the war 
was over, he resigned, and also discontinued the Liberator, for its mission was 
fulfilled. 

This was the close of his long editorial career of forty years. It began when 
he was twenty, and the young-est man in the business ; Avhen it closed there was 
no other editor in the land — excepting- perhaps William Cullen Bryant — who had 
passed so many years of continuous services. 

He had hoped to abolish slavery in a peaceful way, by bringing people to un- 
derstand the evil of it; but he soon g-rew to feel that it could onl^- be done by the 
breaking- up of the Union, and he was in favor of that rather than tlie other. But 
he lived to see his g-reat cause carried — though by war and bloodshed — without 
the calamity of disunion. 

In April of the 3^ear 1865, he was invited by Mr. Chase, Secretary of War, to be 
one of a party from the North, which went to Charleston, where he helped to raisi; 
the Union flag* over the ruins of Fort Sumter, from which, four years before, it had 
been pulled down, in the first victory of the Confederates. 

A short time after this event Mr. Garrison received a purse of thirty thousand 
dollars, which had been made up by many distinguished citizens of the United 
States, as a mark of how deeply they felt the value of his services to the honor of 
the republic. 

Part of the latter years of his life was spent in Europe. In England, the g-reat 
statesmen and distinguished citizens treated him with especial dignity; and in 
America the people who had condemned and insulted him g-ave public receptions 
in his honor and paid him the greatest attentions. 

William Lloyd Garrison was born in Newburyport, Massachusetts, December 
10, 1805. He died in New York City, May 34, 1879. 

Mr. Garrison's chief aide in his great anti-slavery war was Wendell Phillips, 

the " silver-tong-ued orator." He too was a Massachusetts man, a son of one of 
the first old Boston families, whose stately mansion is still standing- on the lowei- 
corner of Beacon and Walnut Streets. It was here that Wendell was born, in 
the same year that another great man — Charles Sumner — came into a family 
that lived not far away, where the rear of the Bowdoin school-house now stands. 
Wendell Phillips's father was a wealthy and much-respected man, with a g-reat 
deal of sound sense and wisdom. He trained his children after the rule : " Ask 



258 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

no man to do anything- that you are not able to do for yourself." This is the 
reason that by the time Wendell was grown up, he knew something- of almost 
every important trade then carried on in New England. j 

He was a student in the famous old Latin School at the same time Sumner was | 
there, and before he was sixteen he entered Harvard College. He g-raduated in \ 
1831, in the same year with John Lothrop Motley, the historian; and we are told \ 
that they were then two of the finest young- men in Boston, with personal beauty, 
elegance, and a good place in the best society. 

Mr. Phillips has said that there was scarcely any kind of ordinary trade or fac- 
tory labor in New England at wdiich he had not done at least a day's work ; but 
for his regular business in life he chose the profession of law. He went to the 
Cambridge Law School, and was admitted to the bar in 1834. This Avas the same 
year in which Sumner was also admitted ; he had entered Harvard a year later 
than Phillips, and had followed him to the Law School. Now they entered upon 
the woi-ld of practical work together, each g-ifted with talents, good position, and 
an excellent start at the age of twenty-three. Both were to become famous, and 
each in his own way the supporter of a despised cause — Sumner as a statesman, 
Phillips as a radical reformer. Both had excellent powers of mind and of speech, 
but the eloquence of Phillips was greater than that of Smnner or almost any man 
of his time. 

These were troublous days in Boston. A few men had already come out boldly 
against slavery, and were doing- all in their power to stir the feeling- of the people 
ag-ainst it. They were strongly opposed, despised as fanatics, and had even been 
mobbed as enemies by some of Boston's " g-entlemen of property and standing-." 

Around William Lloyd Garrison, the leader of these reformers, gathered a few 
men and women who could bear to be hated and despised for the sake of g-iving 
whatever power and inlluence they had to the cause which was right, and which 
must have noble and heroic work to carry it through. In the hands of any less 
than heroes they knew it would fail. 

In 1836 — the year after Garrison was mobbed — Wendell Phillips joined himself 
with these people — these "heroes for liberty," or " ridiculous fanatics " — and be- 
came a member of the American Anti-Slavery Society. When he made up his 
mind to do this, he left the bar, for he was not willing to remain under oath to the 
Constitution of the United States. He did not take a very active part in the so- 
ciety's work at tlie outset. Still he was one of its members, and that meant a 



g'ood deal. 



Every week the strife between the for-slavery and the anti-slavery people grew 
more and more bitter all over the country. Even in the North there was far more 
uiterest in the rig-hts of the slaveholders than in those of the negroes. The aboli- 



Wendell Phillips. 



259 



tioiiist leaders were menaced and insulted everywhere ; but when Elija P. Love- 
joy was actually murdered at Alton, Illinois, while defending- his press from a for- 
slavery moh, people felt that a new step had been taken, and a thrill of horror ran 
through the land. 

An indignation meeting- was called at Faneuil Hall by Doctor Channing, and 
many people were roused ag-ainst this murder who had been indifferent before, or 




=>:^>- 



mt-:. 



Wendell Phillips. 



even fashionably opposed to the whole movement. It was thought that all in the 
assembly were of one mind about the crime, until Mr. Austin, Attorney-General 
of the State, arose and said that Lovejoy died as the fool dieth, and compared the 
Alton mob to the men who threw the tea into Boston Harbor. The meeting- broke 
into applause, and seemed ready to go with Austin, when Wendell Phillips — 
somewhat known as an Abolitionist — began to speak, ?mid hisses that almost 
drowned his opening words : "When I heard the gentleman lay down principles 
that placed the murderers of Alton side by side with Otis and Hancock, with 



260 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Quiiicy and Adams, I thoui^ht these pictured lips [pointing- to their portraits, 
which liang- upon tlie walls] would have broken into voice to rebuke the recreant 
American, the slanderer of the dead." 

That moment turned the tide of the meeting- — the people remembered their ob- 
ject in coming together, they recalled the fact that a band of i-uffians had taken 
on themselves to interfere with America's g-lory — the freedom of the press — had 
cried down the rig-hts of humanity, and had taken the life of their fellow-citizen in 
cold blood. 

This speech turned the g-reat current of thoug-ht in Boston, in New Eng-land, 
and throug-hout the North. It also made the fame of Wendell Phillips as an ora- 
tor, and placed him as one of the foremost among- the anti-slavery leaders. 

He now took up the cause with the most earnest of its workers, and became 
Gar-risoirs right-hand helper. For it he g-ave up his place in society, his friend- 
ships, his wealth, his jirofession, and even refused to vote, or in any way call him- 
self a citizen of the United States so long- as its Constitution provided for slavery. 
He made himself poor for the cause he worked in, and of what money he earned 
by lecturing- he g-ave all away that he could spare. The fame of his eloquence 
always drew larg-e audiences, and was an important money-aid to the society, 
to say nothing- of his great influence upon the minds of those who heard him, 

Healvvaj'S looked upon Garrison as his chief, his own duty being to supply the 
eloquence ; but there was no part of the g-reat work that he was not ready and 
willing- to do, faithfully and well. He g-ave his life to it like a hero, and like a hero 
and a g-iant he kept at it until it was accomplished. 

He was a younger man than Mr. Garrison by seven years, and did not retire 
when the g-reat work was done. He followed his chief as President of the Anti- 
Slavery Society, from the close of the war until 1870, when it was brought to an 
end. He also joined heartily in the work of obtainijig for women an equal right 
witli men in the liberty and protection of the law, of prohibiting- the use or sale 
of liquors, except for medicine, of improving- the management of prisons, and in 
favor of greenbacks or paper currency. For many years he lectured on these and 
on other subjects of history and literature. He was an able scholar, a fine orator, 
and a most pei'fectg-entleman. His tall, well-shaped figure, his manly bearing-, 
and courteous manners won respect and admiration from all who saw him, even 
thoug-h they knew not his name or the sublime character he bore, 

Wendell Phillips was born November 29, 1811, in Boston, wliere he died, Feb- 
ruary 2, 1884, 



John Brown. 



2G1 



Among- other energetic leaders in the anti-slavery movement were Josiali Gid- 
ding-s, a Congressman for twenty-one years ; Arthur and Lewis Tappan, two 
brothers, who were famous New York merchants before the war ; John Greenleaf 
Whittier, the poet ; Gerrit Smith, a wealthy land-liolder of New York ; Mrs. Lu- 
cretia Mott, a Quakeress, of Philadelphia, and old John Brown, of Ossawato- 
mie. He was one of the most ardent champions of liberty for the negroes, and, 
although he went to work in an ill-judged way, he probably broke the first link in 
their bondage. 

The idea of freeing- the slaves first came to him in the year 1839. Garrison'a 
Liberator had then been wielding its two-edged sword for almost ten years. 
Lovejoy had been dead two years, Wendell Phillips was well started in his lec- 
turing-, Giddings was serving his first term in Con- 
gress, and the Tappan bi-others and Gerrit Smith 
were aiding and pushing forward the cause of free- 
dom among New Yorkers. But all of them, and 
probably scores of others engaged in the g-reat sys- 
tematic endeavors of the Anti-Slavery Society, scarce- 
ly knew that there was such a man as this John 
Brown. He was no figure in society or politics, only 
a tanner and currier, nearly forty years of age. He 
was a man with a large family and held the good 
opinion of his townsmen and acquaintances as a de- 
vout Christian of strict moral character. He also 
had the reputation among- the few who knew him 
of being intensely in earnest about some thing-s, 
especially against slavery. But it was not until six- 
teen years after this that he came out in his bold 
opposition to the slavery people. Meanwhile he moved from Ohio to Massachu- 
setts, and spent some time in Europe on business, but in 1855 he went out to Kan- 
sas in order to vote, and to fight, if need be, against having slavery establislied 
in that Territory. It was then he first took part against the slavery people. He 
was in many of the fierce little frays that took place before this matter was settled 
and Kansas was won into the hands of the free state settlers. In all these he 
showed wonderful coolness and bravery, and sometimes a strong arm and nerves 
for fierce fighting- in the face of danger. Once, during this contest, a band of 
lor-slavery men from Missouri invaded the Territory, and "old John Brown" 
became the hero of Ossawatomie by routing them at that place with a little com- 
pany about one-tenth the size of the invaders' party. 

From this time he was better known and took a more active part against the 




John Brown. 



2G2 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

ovil he so halod. TTi^ ti-avolod tliroiij^'h the Northern and the Eastern States, 
MKikinii" speeelies a.i^'aiiist shivery and tryini;- to form some plans for raisini;' armed 
troops lo [)ul it down. Finally he called a secret convention of the frieiuls of 
freedom, which met at Chathnni in (Canada. They formed a society, adopted a 
constitution, and planned out an expedition into Vii-yinia, by which tliey thou^lit 
llu\v could free the slaves at one hold stroke of arms, as Brown had conquered the 
Missourians at Ossawatomie years before. 

In the next July a man who called himself Mr. Smith rented a farm-honse 
about six miles from Ha rper's Ferry, Viri:;inia, and set up a secret a rmoi'y. It was 
(Captain Brown --" Old Ossawatonne Brown" he was usually called — and this was 
to l)e a hc:ul(iuai'ters for colltH'tiu^- pikes, i;uns, j)owdei-, and other arms and ani- 
munit-ion, and for i^atheriuin- from all parks of the country a band of white ami 
colored men, who, imder t luMr resolide and daring- captain, hoped to strike a deatli- 
blow to slavery in Maryland aud Virg'inia. All sunnner they worked and waited 
for the proper time, which came early iu the autumn. On the nig-ht of October 
IGth they set out, Brown at the head of about twenty men. They made their 
way secretly to Harper's Ferry, surprising- the Government arsenal and armory 
and taking- over forty ])rison(M's. 

The soldiers, the worknuMi, and the inhabitants of the whole town w^ere fright- 
ened anti astonished, but nobody knew what it meant. They did not think it was 
an anti-slavery movement, and some oven thought it was a strike among the armo- 
rers or Government laborers. After awhile the truth dawned on the people, and 
militiuy companies soon came from many of the places near by, and a good deal 
of firing and lighting took place between them and Brown's little company in pos- 
session of the Government buildings. 

When the news spread to Washington, Baltimore, and Richmond, it caused the 
g-reatest excitement, and troo])s were ordered to Harper's Fc' y at once. Early 
the next morning- C-olonel Bobert E. Lee arrived with a hundred men and two 
lleld-pieces. He sent his aid. Lieutenant J. E. B. Stuart, to demand Brown's 
surrender, which was promptly and resolutely refused each time it was urged. 
Then the storming- began and was answered by rapid and sharp firing- from within. 
At last Lee's men broke open the arsenal and the conquest was nuule, but not 
until two of Brown's sons and nearly all the rest of his band were killed and he 
himself was wounded in several {)laces. He Avas taken to Charlestown, Vii-ginia, 
where a trial was held for treason and nuirder. He explained the object of his 
attack, saying- he had not intended to harm or take permanent possession of the 
[)ublic arms, but that he had seized this point to show his detx^rmi nation and what 
he could do. A ft er that he expected to be joiiunl and aided by Abolitionists set- 
tled everywhere thi-oughout Maryland and Virginia, and to be able to take 



L/ucretia Matt. 



263 



possession of both States with all of the negroes they could capture. He made an 
elo([uent defense and showed true heroic spirit about liis enterprise, but in tliat 
court he could not establish his innocence of tlic crimes charged against liim. He 
was found guilty of treason by the Virginia authorities and condenmed to be hung 
in a little over a month. 

It was an event that spread tallv and excitement over the whole country, 
rousing those who were indifferent to one side or the other, strengthening the 








f 



;^"% 



M 



LUCRKTIA MOTT. 

South against the ''anti-slavery fanatics," and giving the Abolitionists still 
greater grounds for their labors toward liberty and freedom, 

John Brown was born at Torrington, Connecticut, May 9, 1800. He was 
hung at Charlestown, Virginia, December 2, 1859. 

One of the ablest members of the Anti-Slavery Society in Philadelphia was 
Mrs. LiUcretia Mott. She was one of the first women in the countiy to take a 
decided stand against slavery. Before the nanu's of Gai-rison and his co-workers 
had been heard of, she began to use her influence against it by words and actions. 
She was then Miss Lucretia Coffin, a young lady from New England at a Friend's 
or Quaker's school in New York State. Her feeling against the great evil 



264 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

strengthened yqyj fast, and she soon felt it was her duty not to use anything 
made by slave labor. 

When she was nineteen years old Miss Coffin became the wife of Mr. William 
Mott, of New Yoi'k City. Her people, who were Quakers, had moved, while she 
was at school, from New England to Philadelphia, and to that city she and her 
husband went to live. This was in 1812, at the beginning- of a second strife in 
our land with England. Like all the Friends, Mrs. Mott did not believe in war, 
and felt very much disturbed about the trouble and bloodshed that spread ovet 
the country, and not long after peace was declared she began to preach in 
the Quaker meeting-house, which she and her people attended. She had a good 
education and a fine mind, while her voice was so sweet, and her manner so ear- 
nest and convincing, that all who listened to her were taught by her wise words 
and charmed by their eloquence. Her influence was so important that she soon 
began to travel about the country, explaining and preaching the peaceable and 
benevolent principles of the Friends, and showing what great evils lay in slavery, 
intemperance, and strife of all kinds. 

In 1827, wiien Elias Hicks, a famous Quaker preacher, hy changing his views 
and coming to believe in the Unitarian doctrine, was the cause of dividing the So- 
ciety of Friends, Mr. and Mrs. Mott were among those who left the old society 
that still kept to their former views and joined the " Hicksites," as those Quakers 
who took up the Unitarian belief were called. To believe in a thing, with her, was 
to work for it ; and she immediately began to give her talents and interests to the 
side of their religion which seemed to her the right one, and as long as she lived 
she was one of the ablest ministers of this society. 

Meanwhile the slavery question was growing, and all the friends of abolition 
were being called forth throughout the whole country. An association had been 
formed in New England, and in 1833, when it was decided to have a national so- 
ciety Mr. and Mrs. Mott were among the foremost in helping to form it in Phil- 
adelphia. They took up whatever work it had for them and carried it on most 
ably, all in their own quiet and modest but forcible way. Six j^ears later they 
were appointed with William LIo^tI Garrison, Mr. and Mrs. Henry B. Stanton, 
and several other men and women, to represent America at the World's Anti- 
Slavery Convention in London ; and, with the other ladies, Mrs. Mott was refused 
admission to its meetings. 

At that time man^^ people thought that women had no right to take anj^ part 
in public affairs or to try to place themselves on an equal footing with men. Sev- 
eral of the men delegates — notably Mr. Garrison — did not look at the matter in that 
light, and were indignant that the women were shut out of these meetings. So, 
to make it a little better, the ladies were invited to a social entertainment for the 



Laicretia Mott. 265 

delegates called a breakfast. This was a very disting'iiished company and was 
attended by many men of high rank and importance. As some of the guests were 
the people who had voted that women should not be allowed to take an active part 
at the Convention, Mrs. Mott thought it was her opportunity to sa^- what she had 
intended to say at the Convention. In her own sweet manner she rose and ad- 
dressed tlie company, most of whom were astonished at her boldness ; but so ear- 
nest and so eloquent was her speech that they all soon forgot their surprise and 
listened with pleasure and admiration to her words ; and so she succeeded in do- 
ing her duty as an American representative to the World's Anti-Slavery Conven- 
tion. 

She believed very firmly that women should be equal to men in the eyes and 
the rights of the law, and when the first "Woman's Rights " convention was 
held at Genesee Falls, her husband presided and she was one of the most active 
and able members. That convention and all the people who were interested in 
the cause for which it was held, were for a long time ridiculed and much misunder- 
stood by the greater part of both the men and women in America ; but Mrs. Mott, 
Mrs. Stone-Blackwell, Mrs. Stanton, and a great many other of the noble, Avomanly 
women who, with some of our large-minded men, stood at the head of it were not 
discouraged, but labored courag-eously and patiently on to bring the people to see 
that they had a very wrong idea when the}^ said that these women wanted to be men. 
They merely want — they say — to have fair play and honest rights as women; 
and when they have to pay taxes and help support the Government, they claim 
the right to a voice and hearing as to how the money shall be spent, so long as 
they have to conform to the laws as much as men. 

This was all a new doctrine then, but times have changed since. The Women's 
Rights Societ}'^ has had able writers and silver-tongued speakers at work. The 
new ideas have grown more popular as they have become better understood, and 
good old Mrs. Mott lived to see them taken up and indorsed, where they had been 
once ridiculed and condemned, although the end is j^et a long waj^ off. She also 
lived to see four millions of slaves made free and a great change in public feeling 
about intemperance ; for, Avhen she was young, it was no disgrace to a man to be 
drunk, and the frequent use of wines and liquors was both common and fashion- 
able. 

Besides being an eloquent speaker and an able worker, Mrs. Mott w^as always 
so consistent that her noble character added double power to her services in every 
cause she undertook. Although her life was much in public, she was yet a model 
old-fashioned housekeeper, who trained her children carefully, kept her house in 
comfort, peace, and beauty, loved and looked up to her quiet, earnest husband, 
whose views were much the same as her own. 



2GG One Hundred Famoiis Americans. 

Her small, slig'ht figure, her charming-, delicate face, with its lines of tender- 
ness and of strength, her bright gray eyes that g'lowed as if they were black wlieii 
she grew deeply in earnest, were familiar to all the poor hi her neig-hborhood . She 
worked for them and g'ave them comforts to eat and to wear, attending- them in 
sickness and sjanpathizing with their troubles. So in public life she had the power 
and the charm that win success ; she spoke well and to the point, while her high 
moral qualities, uncommon intelligence, and noble character won the respect of all; 
and those who knew the added qualities that made her family such a good, comfort- 
able, and happy one, had still greater reason to admire and reverence her, 
although many diifered from the unpopular causes of slavery, intemperance, and 
woman's rights she advocated, as well as from her relig-ion. 

Lvicretia Mott was born on the island of Nantucket, January 3, 1793. She died 
at Philadelphia, November 11, 1880. 

While the women delegates at the World's A nti-Slavery Convention in London 
were shut out from the meeting-s, they made the most of their opportunities for g-et- 
ting acquainted with each other. Among- all Avho gathered about the noble and 
respected Mrs. Mott, there was one earnest young- woman of twenty-four who 
became her life-long- friend. This was Mrs. Elizabeth Catly Staiitoii. She 
had many interests in common with the g-entle Quakeress. Her husband, Henry 
B. Stanton, was an eloquent and popular lecturer on anti-slavery and she had 
joined heartily in his work ever since their marriag-e, which occurred about a year 
before this time. But her interest in the great questions of the day and in the 
rights and wrongs of life began when she was a child. 

Judge Cady, her father, was a prominent and able lawyer of Fulton County, 
New York, in the early part of this centurj^, and the little Elizabeth used to delig-ht 
to spend her time in his office. She was a brig-ht girl and took a great deal of in- 
terest in the people who came to her father on business. She was particularly 
interested in the women, and would listen carefully to their complaints till her 
little heart was often roused in anger against the injustice of the law toward them. 
She had also learned that " g-irls don't count for much " compared with boys, and, 
feeling- deepl}' mortified to see how much less reg-ard they usually received, she 
resolved to show that she could prove that g-irls and women can have as much 
courage and ability as boys and men. So she studied mathematics, Latin, and 
Greek, the same as the boys of her town, and even won a Greek Testament once 
for a prize in scholarship. She graduated at the head of her class in the Johns- 
town Academy, and felt very badly that, although she was far ahead of the boys, 
they could go to college and she could not, because there was no college in the 
country that would take girl students. 



Elizabeth Cady Stanton. 



267 



But this did not prevent her from making- the most of herself, and proving her 
ahiUty in spite of poor opportunities. She took an interest in the affairs of tlie 
country, and so far as it was possible made as much of herself as college training 
could of the boys of her class. So she grew up to be both a finely educated and 
an eai'nest, noble-minded woman. 

Her interest and desire to help went out to all that was right, and every wrong 
excited her sympathies. She was her husband's helper in anti-slavery work, and 




Elizabeth Cady Stanton. 

finally she took up the cause of women's rights with still greater zeal. Perhaps 
this came through the influence of the sweet Quakeress, Mrs. Mott ; the way the 
women were treated at the World's Convention may have roused all the old feeling 
of little Elizabeth Cadj^ against the wrongs of women, until she resolved to throw 
her whole strength into the cause of having them righted. At any rate, when Mrs. 
Stanton returned from the Convention, it was with her mind made up to devoting 
the energies of her life to resisting all the injustices of law and custom against 
women. She was one of the foremost in having the first Women's Rights Con- 



2G8 One Iluudred Famous Americans. 

vention held at Seneca Falls, New York, in 1848 ; and since that time she has 
labored most earnestly in creating- a new feeling- among' the people toward securing- 
fair laws and just I'ig-hts toward women. Her speeches are some of the most elo- 
quent made by any American orator, and the charm of her sweet face, her fine, 
well-bred manners, and her just mind have won for her the highest praise and 
respect, in both Eng-land and America. 

Mrs. Stanton was born at Johnstown, New York, November 12, 1815. 



Among- the other g-reat women who have devoted their lives to the rig-hts of 
women, are Mrs. Lucy Stonc-Blackwell, who has been for many years the editor 
of the Women's Journal in Boston, and is one of the most accomplished and 
charming- ladies and polished speakers of her time. Her sister-in-laAv, Mrs. An- 
toinette Brown-Blackwell, and Mrs. Susan B. Anthony, are also noble and emi- 
nent workers in the same cause. 

Every boy and girl who cares for learning and who has had chances to get a 
good education, must love and honor the great philanthropists who have given us 
good schools, who have founded and endowed our colleges, and given us so many 
libraries and institutes for almost all kinds of study. 

There was a time — not very long ago — when it was almost impossible for any 
except wealthy people to give their children half as much education as every grad- 
uate of a city grammar school now has, and it has only been by the most 
earnest effort and untiring labor on the part of a few men and women in every com- 
munity that the need of better chances has been made clear to the people, and the 
means of supplying them have been raised, and the best methods of teaching have 
been discovered and brought into use. The man who probably did most to secure 
the good public schools that the young folks of America have been enjoying for 
the last quarter of a century, and which are all the time growing better, was the 
honored teacher and statesman, Horace Maim. He knew himself what it was 
to want an education and have scarcely any way of getting it, for he was the son 
of a poor Massachusetts farmer, and lived where there were few books, and those 
were small and miserable, while his teachers, he says, "were very good people, 
but very poor teachers." He earned some books by braiding straw, when he was 
little, but as he grew older, his life was filled with long hours of hard work, so 
that to get any time at all for study, he had to go Avithout sleep that he needed. 

When he was about twenty 3'ears old he began to learn something- of Latin, and 
in about six months he had prepared himself for Brown University, at Providence, 
Rhode Island. He entered the sophomore class, and graduated with the highest 
honors in the year 1819. Then he studied law, and four years afterward he was 



Horace Mann. 269 

admitted to the bar. He began at once to practice, with a firm resolve never to 
take tlie unjust side of any cause. He kept to this resolution all his life, and it is 
said of all the contested cases in which he took part, he g-ained four out of every 
five. He was not long* in rising in his profession. No one could know him and 
hear him speak without feeling- the sincere and honest purpose that underlaid all 
that he said and did. It was this as much as his strong and forcible eloquence that 
held the secret of his great influence over the juries before him, and made him a 
successful advocate. 

In 1827 he entered the Massachusetts Legislature, where he was soon noted for 
his zeal in the causes of temperance and education. After a few 3' ears he was State 
Senator, and step \)y step he rose higher in power and influence every year. 

Many of the forward measures taken by Massachusetts during the second and 
third quarters of this century were due to the labors of Mr. Mann. He was fore- 
most in haviug the Lunatic Hospital founded at Worcester, where poor people 
who lose their minds may be taken care of partlj^ or ^vholly at the cost of the State. 
He also held the position of Secretary of the State Board of Education for eleven 
years ; and it is said that from the moment he undertook these duties he gave to 
them undivided attention and unfailing zeal. He not only labored to improve the 
schools and the teaching in the State, but gave lectures, and wrote articles and 
letters which showed the value of education, told what poor chances there were for 
it iti this countr}^, and aroused an interest in it that had never been felt before. 
Tills was the means of having better school-houses, books, and teachers, and 
awakened both parents and trustees to do more than they had ever thought of 
before. He succeeded in having the school laws changed for the better, and made 
over the whole system by which children were taugiit ; and after his second mar- 
riage, in 1843, he made a visit to Europe almost on purpose to go to the schools 
of foreign countries for the sake of improving* those at home. 

Five years later he was sent to Congress, to take the place of John Quincy 
Adams who had just died. His first speech was upon the right and duty of Con- 
gress to keep slavery out of the Territories. At about this time, but not in this 
speech he said : "■ Interference witli slavery will excite civil commotion in the 
South. Still, it is l)est to interfere. Now is the time to see whether the Union is 
a rope of sand or a band of steel. . . . Dark clouds overhang the future ; and 
that is not all ; t\\ej are full of lightning. ... I really think if we insist upon 
passing the Wilmot Proviso [which was to shut out slaverj^ from new lands in the 
South and West] that the South would rebel, but /would pass it, rebellion or not. 
I consider no evil so great as that of the extension of slavery." 

He served two terms in Congress, but d'd not return again, for in 1852 — Avhen 
he was fifty-six years old — he became the president of Antioch College in Ohio. 



2?0 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



At the same time that he received this invitation he was also elected Governor of 
Massachusetts, but he chose the colleg-e work, for he thoug-ht that was in greater 
need of him. It was a young- school, not yet well started, and much in want of a 




Horace Mann. 



working- president, g-ood support, and careful manag-ement. He went out to it 
and undertook all its duties with deep earnestness. But it was a g-reater task 
than he could bear, and after seven years of hard labor toward making- it successful 



Stephen Girard. 



271 



in every way, his liealth broke down completel}^ Man^^ of the pupils had scarcelj'' 
reached home after commencement, before the noble life of their friend and teacher 
was over. 

Horace Mann was born in Franklin, Massachusetts, May 4, 1796. He died at 
Yellow Springs, Ohio, August 2, 1859. 

At the beg-inning- of this century the most noted man in Philadelphia was 
Stephen Girard. He had been a sailor and was now a banker and a finan- 
cier. But he was as famous for his oddness, or eccentricity, and his benevolence, as 
for his great wealth. When he was thirteen years 
old he had left his home at Bordeaux in France, 
and shipped as a cabin-boy to the West Indies and 
New York. In these voyages he learned all he 
could about sea-faring life, and worked his way up 
until, b}"" the time he was twenty- six years old, he 
had command of a vessel that coasted along the 
eastern shore of North America. 

On his way from New Orleans to Canada, in 
1776, while his vessel was lying becalmed off the 
mouth of Delaware Bay, he found that he was 
likely to be captured by any of the many British 
cruisers then making it their business to take pos- 
session of all the American craft they could. So 
he put in up the Delaware, and stopping at Phila- 
delphia sold both sloop and cargo and set up a 
grocery and liquor store. He made consider- 
able money here, which he carefully saved, and 

when the war was over, put his capital into the New Orleans and San Domingo 
trade. He knew that business would soon begin to grow better after the peace 
was made, so he took a good deal of careful thought to be ready to make the most 
of the change. One of his clever schemes was to lease a block of buildings on 
Water Street, in Philadelphia, when he was able to get them for a ver^^ low price, 
and to re-let them for a much larger rent as soon as trade revived. Another 
venture was to join his brother in the West India trade. This was followed up 
until the enterprising sailor had a little fortune of thirty thousand dollars. A 
man could do a good deal with that amount of money in those days, so Girard then 
left his brother and carried on the trade by himself. Steadily his wealth grew and 
soon after the partnership was broken fifty thousand dollars was added to his cap- 
ital by an accident. Two of his vessels were in port at Hayti at the time of the 




Stephen Girard. 






One Humlred Famous Americans. 



iieE^TO-oiitbreak there, and several planters took their treasure on board the 
American vessels to save it. After leaving- all they could carry in the first trip 
they returned to their homes for more, but were probably killed, for they never 
went back to the harbor. At tlie appointed time for leaving-, tliere was nothing 
for the oflicers to do but come away with all the treasure on board, for their master 
never allowed his men to disobey orders twice. As soon as they arrived in Phila- 
delpliia and told Captain Girard what had liappened, he put the valuables in safe- 
keeping- and advertised them widely and for a long time. But they were never 
claimed, and, of course, became his. 

As commerce and foreign trade revived after the Revolution Girard's business 
and wealth grew very fast till there was scarcely any important port in the 
world to which his ships did not go. His trade was especially large with China 
and the East Indies, for they produced articles of g:reat value in the United States 
and in England, and this master merchant knew just how to make the most of the 
products of every port. His captains were told to buy fruits in the warm climates, 
and to sail with them to a northern port, where they sold them to great advantage. 
Then the money was invested in something else, which was carried to another port 
in some distant part of the world where it would bring large prices as a great 
luxury while some other articles— rare elsewhere —could be bought very cheap, and 
sold dearly. 

Girard having- been a sea-captain himself and a careful observer in his many 
voyages, knew just what he wanted of his cai^tains, and giving them careful in- 
structions, he required them to do exactly as they were told. It was one of his 
peculiai'ities that any man avIio went against his oi'ders — even if he succeeded 
better than lie would have done by Girard's own way — lost his place. " Once it 
might succeed," he said, "but followed up it would likely lead to losses, and at 
last ruin me." 

This is but one of the ways in which he made his wealth, and Stephen Girard 
was famous as a rich man long before he was known as a philanthropist. About 
the first time that people came to realize the love for others in liis nature was when 
the scoui'ge of yellow fever spread through Philadelphia in 1793. All the people 
who could, left the city, and those who wert» stricken were in great distress, with 
scarcely any one to take care of them. An appeal was made foi- n urses and money ; 
and as soon as it was heard Girard answered with both himself and his wealth. 
He paid for help and supplies of all kinds, and also took the charge of the hospital 
for the infected as his share of the actual work. He nursed the sick and watched 
the dying during all the terrible rage of the fever throughout the whole city ; and 
many a poor victim who never reached the hospital owed his recovery or his last 
comfort to the great shipmaster, whom everybody said was queer and testy, yet 



StepJien Girard. ^7 



o 



who walked into the midst of the deadly fever and daily risked his own life for the 
sake of others. At last the scoury-e was over ; it had taken with it one-sixth of 
the people it found in the city, and many who were left were helpless children. To 
these Gii'ai'd made himself a second father, and two hundred little boys and g'irls 
were provided for by him in an orphan's home. Four years later the scourg-e re- 
turned. It was not so bad this time, for the city was better prepai'ed to care for 
the sick and check tlie disease, but Girard came forward just as before, freely giv- 
ing- his service and his Avealth as long as they were needed. After that his life 
of work and money-making went on in the old wiiy, only with still greater suc- 
cess. 

In the year that the second war with England broke out he bought the build- 
ing and most of the stock of the United Stales Bank of Philadelphia, and began 
his private banking business, which soon becamt* known as the Girard Hank. He 
began with a capital of one million and two hundred thousand dollars, which he 
afterward raised to four millions, and his business became one of the soimdest and 
most respected in the world. Befoi-e long, the ntition had cause to be thankful for 
this. In the third year of the war, the Government was in great straits and called 
to the people for a loan of five millions. Liberal inducements were offered to 
subscribers by Congress, but the sum could not be raised beyond twenty thousand 
dollars, until Girard came forward and oifered the whole amount. Then the loan 
became popular, and capitalists began at once to pui'chase bonds, and Girard 
allowed them to do so. His biographer says, " He was the very sheet-anchor of 
the Government credit during the whole of that disastrous war." 

Later, he did a good deal toward securing a charter for the second Bank of the 
United States, and was one of its directors. Many other public enterprises were 
aided by the wealth and influence of this eccentric old gentleman. He built a num- 
ber of the most beautiful blocks of buildings in Philadelphia, and subsci'ibed and 
loaned over three hundred and fifty thousand dollars to the navigation of the 
Schuylkill, which has been of great advantage to Philailelphia and the ulterior of - 
the State. He also subscribed large sums to raili'oad enterprises, for his whole 
mind was taken up by the cares of business, and of managing and using his vast 
fortune, which was worth about nine millions of dollars. 

He had a sour, unhappy nature from childhood, which liad been increased by 
personal misfortunes, and was not made brighter either by religion or family 
ties, for Mrs, Girard — once one of the most beautiful ladies of Philadelphia — died 
in an insane aslyum, without ever having had any children. 

Towai'd the latter part of his life, the great money-holder made careful plans 
for dividing up his wealth after his death. He left legacies to each of his relartives, 
to his captains then in service who brouglit their vessels safely home, to his ap- 



274 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

prentices and old servants, to Girard College for the education of orphans, to the 
improvement of the streets and building-s of Philadelphia, to canal navigation in 
Pennsylvania, to a fund for the distressed masters of ships, and to many different 
State and city asylums and schools. His public bequests amounted to almost 
seven millions of dollars, and the private legacies and annuities were several mill- 
ions more. 

His chief legatee was the city of Philadelphia, in trust, and the college was his 
great bequest. Forty-five acres of land and two millions of dollars, or " more if 
necessary," were provided for it, and careful directions were laid down as to what 
it should be and who for. It stands about two miles from Independence Hall, in 
the northwestern part of the city ; great stone ^^'a]ls enclose the large plot of ground, 
upon which are the beautiful Avhite marble buildings that make up the halls of the 
college. The great main building was made after Mr. Girard's directions, and is 
said to be the finest edifice in the Corinthian style of architecture now standing in 
any part of the world. The college was opened nearly forty years ago and is still 
managed strictly according to the rules laid down in the will. It is for poor white 
boys who have no fathers. Tlie3'^ can enter between the ages of six and ten ; and 
between fourteen and eighteen are bound or apprenticed to " some suitable occupa- 
tions, as those of architecture, navigation, arts, mechanical trades, and manufact- 
ures." The college is large enough for five hundred boys, and has twenty teachers. 
Mr. Girard said that he wanted that the bo\'s shoidd be able to adopt whatever 
form of religion shoidd seem right to them when the^^ had grown to be able to 
think for themselves ; and on that account he stated that no person connected with 
any religious sect, as any sort of an ordained teacher or minister, should ever be 
allowed inside the college grounds for any purpose, not even as a visitor. This 
rule has been alwavs strictly carried out. 

Stephen Girard was born at Bordeaux, in France, May 24, 1750. He died in 
Philadelphia, December 26, 1831. 

« 

As during the Revolution the public credit was saved by the wealth and repu- 
tation of Robert Morris, and in the War of 1812 by Stephen Girard, so also in 
another dark hour, our weak and doubtful securities were made good by the 
great name of George Peabody. 

This is the story : The famous hard times year of 1837 was one of large 
changes in business and in all the financial affairs of the United States. There 
was a black cloud hanging over the standing of the whole nation. It was a very 
trying time both at home and abroad. America was in disgrace, and American 
credit was almost gone. Mr. Peabody Avas then a well-known American merchant 
who had latel^'^ settled in London. His wealth was great and his judgment and 



George Peahody. 275 

integrity commanded the highest respect. Maryland asked him to help redeem 
her lost credit and one of the ways he took to do it was to show his own faith in 
the nation by buying- American bonds freely, although he risked losing his fortune 
by doing so. When foreigners saw that Peabody took a firm stand for the coun- 
try, many of them resolved to trust it, too ; and so it was that he won back the 
world's faith in the United States' securities, through the reputation of his own in- 
tegrity. When the storm was over he modestly declined anj^ return for his ser- 
vices. 

At this time Mr. Peabody was a neat, plainly-dressed, fine-looking gentleman, 
about forty years old. He was known as an open-hearted and generous man, but 
the greatness of his work for others came in later years ; now he was an earnest, 
upright, and industrious banker, making the money which he afterward used for 
the noblest of gifts. 

He came from an able and talented New England family*. There had been 
patriots, thinkers, and scholars among them ; but he inherited no money and no 
position with these finer legacies. He was intended for a business man from the 
first. So as soon as he could read and write and "cast up accounts," he was 
thought to be ready to leave school and go to work. Ideas have changed since 
then about the education of a business man. 

George was eleven years old when he went into a grocery store in his native 
town, Danvers, Massachusetts. In four years he left that place for a wider field ; 
he had begun to show a good deal of talent for business, and thought he could do 
better in a larger town. He went in his uncle's employ at Georgetown, in the 
District of Columbia . He was there when the British fleet sailed up the Potomac 
to attack the United States capital at the beginning of the War of 1812 ; and was 
one of the patriotic little band of young men Avhich stepped up at once to defend 
the city. The fleet only made a threat and Peabody went back to his uncle's 
store, which was much more to his taste than holding a fort. But this was not 
because he had a good time in the business. Far from it ; for he had a large share 
of the managing to do, and was weighted with a great deal of care and \\ov\i, all 
for very small pay. Still he was careful and faithful, because that was his place 
and his work. 

But by and by a change came. He found that he was going to be responsible 
for debts he had no part in contracting, so he gave up his position. He was not 
idle long. An able and Avealthy merchant, Mr. Riggs, offered to form a partner- 
ship with him in the dry-goods business in Baltimore, Mr. Riggs to supply the 
money, Mr. Peabody to undertake the management. He was then only nineteen, 
but his judgment was quick and cautious, clear and sound. He knew how to save 
and how to spend, and was alwaj^s careful about little things. His will was firm 5 



376 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

he was energ-etic, persevering- and industrious, punctual and faithful in every 
eng-ag'ement. He never made a transaction that was not perfectly honorable. 
Beside this he was a kind, courteous g-entleman to ever3'hod3\ He could not fail, 
with these qualities and no bad habits. 

The business was a g-reat success ; it had branches in man3^ large cities, and 
both partners became very rich men. Mr. Peabody went to Europe mau}^ times to 
bu3^ goods, and in 1837 he settled in London and carried on an European branch of 
the business. He bought heavilj^ of British goods, shipped them to America, re- 
ceiving- all kinds of our g-oods by the return trips of his vessels. These found a ready 
sale in England. Graduall^^ when his customers consig-ned to his firm the}'' not 
only drew upon him, but often left with him large amounts of mone^^ to be held till 
required, and in this wa^y he soon found himself doing a large banking- business. In 
1843, when his firm chang-ed its name to that of George Peabody & Co., he made 
banking- his leading- business, and the purchase and sale of American securities 
his specialt3\ His office became the resort of Americans in London, and Mr. Pea- 
body's countr^'men always found there a g-enial and kindly g-reeting and plentj^of 
United States newspapers. He spent carefully", thoug-h liberally, living- in modest 
bachelor rooms himself and entertaining- g-enerousl^^ at his club. For manj^ ^^ears 
he gave a g-rand Fourth of Jul^^ dinner in memor}^ of American independence, 
which was attended b^' the most disting-uished Americans and Britons who might 
be in London at the time. 

He was now one of the richest men of his time, and the extent of his business 
was very larg-e, for in private affairs and in the great crisis in America, he had 
g-ained such reputation for strength, courage, and ability in mone^^ matters, that 
immense sums were continuall,y placed in his hands. 

But it is not the possession of mone^' or an^- other power that makes a person 
truly great ; it is the wa.y these are used. George Peabody used his mone^' for 
the g'ood of others — his people, his country, and his fellow-men in America and 
Europe. Being- a bachelor, he had no family of his own, but he took care of some 
of his relatives. His hard earnings when he was a boy went to his mother and sis- 
ters ; and from the time he was twenty-four years old, he had taken the whole 
of their supi)ort on himself. He cheerfully' went without things that he mig-ht 
g-ive them comfort and happiness when he was jioor; and as his wealth grew, 
so did his desire to use it for others. 

His second public gift was in 1851. Our country was still seeing pretty hard 
times, and when plans were being made for the Great World's Exhibition in Lon- 
don, Congress either could not or would not provide any means for the American 
Department. So Mr. Peabody offered to bear all the expense, and gave all the 
money and attention that was necessar^^ to have our country fitly represented. 



George Peabody, 



277 



The many prizes and high awards that the work of American mechanics and in- 
ventors received, and the great interest that was roused in our industries, and 
the important place tliat our products took among- the supplies of the world prove 
what a vast loss it would have been to the United States if we had had no Mr. 
Peabody in London, or at least no exhibit there. 

From that time to the end of his life, he was always bus}^ with some great 
charity. The next year he gave ten thousand dollars to pay tha expenses of the 
second Arctic expedition under command of Dr. Kane in search of Sir John Frank- 




George Peabody. 

lin. This is known as the Grinnell Expedition, because Mr. Henry Grinnell, of New 
York, started it \ij offering the use of his vessel, the Advance^ for the trip. 

In the same 3'ear that the Grinnell Expedition went out, the towm of Danvers 
celebrated its one hundredth anniversary ; and Mr. Peabody sent it a birthday 
present of twenty thousand dollars for an institute and library. He added to this 
gift from time to time until it became over ten times as large as the first sum. 

In 1857, after having- been away from his country for twenty years, Mr. Pea- 
body came back to the United States. He visited aU the places he had lived in 
before going away, and in Baltimore, where the parent house of the firm of Riggs 



278 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

& Poabody was established and liad done business for many years, he fonnd<Hl a 
g-reat institute for eihication. He had been thinkini;- over this plan for many 
years, and from the first made very cai'eful arranjyemeuts to have it a g-reat and 
noble institutiou which sliould be able to keep up with the times and never be 
too small for its city. Many years were spent in developing- it, and in all, he g-ave 
to it ovei' a million of dolla rs. It is called the Baltimore Institute, or Peabod}'' In- 
stitute, and has a lai'g-e fi-ee libr-ai-y, an academy of nuisie, a g-allery of art, and 
roon\s for the Maryland Historical Society, to which he also made a larg-e gift of 
money. The Institute provides free lectures by eminent literary and scicMitilic 
teachers, in a lai'ge hall that will seat a g-reat many people. Mr. Peabody saw 
tliis well begun before he left America. 

Soon aftei' his return to England this noble-hearted philanthropist g-ave away 
another g-ood-sized fortune, to provide the poor hard-working- people of London 
with pleasant, healthful homes and chances for education and improvement. 
Altogether this gift reached about two million dollars. A g-reat time was made 
about it in England. The Queen was so grateful that she had her portrait painted 
on ivory and set in jewels — at a cost of about twenty- live thousand dollars — and 
presented it to him as a token of how deeply she felt his kindness to her peopU\ 
She also offered liini a baronetcy, Avhicli he declined. 
\ The English people showed so much g-ratitude and paid Mr. Peabody so manj'^ 
^honors for this charity that Americans often say that he did more for London than 
he did for his native count ly; but this is a g-reat injustic(\ There are seven towns 
beside Danvers in the United St;it(\s — scattered through 1 lie East, the West, and the 
South — to which he either gave or left in his will four hundred and sixty tliousand 
dollars, cliielly for churches, institutes, libraries, or colleg-es ; a hundred and lifty 
thousand dolla I's each were given to Harvard and to Yale Colleges, while three 
millions and a half were placed in a fund for education in the South. This with 
t he one million sixty thousand for the Baltimore Institute and the Maryland His- 
torical Society, the two hundred and fifty thousand for Danvers, the Yale and 
Harvard bequests, and the g-ifts to institutions in the seven other towns, the ten 
thousand on the Arctic Expedition, the five millions willed to Mr. P(\vbody's 
relatives and frieuds, and the two hundivd thousand in scattered little gifts, 
make up about ten millions of his wealth that have been used for the ]mblic and 
private welfare of people in this country, while the Avhole of his English bequest 
was two millions five hundred thousand, just one million less than the Southern 
Educational Fund, alone. " 

Mr. Peaboil^' b(\iian to mak(^ almost all his bequests early enough to see for 
himself that they were carried out. Many men of g-reat wealth have left money to 
be given to good causes after their deatli, with dii-ections foi- its use — sometimes 



Peter Cooper. 279 

to l>c followed and sometimes to be quarreled over and wasted. Mr. Peabody 
chose the better way. He put his money where he saw it was needed, and was 
all the i^-reater in his i^-ivinc;- that he did not wait until he could have no use for 
it himself. 

Althoui^h he would not accept the baronetcy from the Queen, aiitl all the public 
honors that both England and America were anxious to ipay, no modesty could re- 
tire from the place he had in all hearts, and which merit alone can win. When his 
death came, it was an international loss. The body was laid in state at West- 
minster Abbey in London, and was afterwards brought to this country in a royal 
man-of-war, where it was received with the highest respect and buried with na- 
tional honors. 

George Peabod}' was born in South Danvei's, now Peabody, Massachusetts, 
February 18, 1795. He died in London, England, November 4, 18G9. 

The great object of the life of Peter Cooper was to raise and educate people 
who have to work for their living-. All the latter part of his life — which only closed 
about three years ago — was spent for this object ; and, although he built his Insti- 
tute and carried out his plans in the city of New York, their benefits extend 
throughout the whole of the United States. 

Peter Cooper's father always believed that his son would "come to something." 
He had named Peter after the gi'eat Apostle, and he expected his boy to live 
worthy of it. When he was just tall enough for his head to be above the table, he 
began to help his father, who was a hatter, by pulling- the hair outi of i-abbit-skins. 
He stayed in this business till he learned every part of the work of making beaver 
hats ; and as he was very eager for an education, he was allowed meanwhile to g-o 
to school during half of each day for a yeai'. That Avas all the schooling- he ever 
had. 

When Peter was seventeen his father sold out this business and set u}) in 
another. Then he learned all about a brewery and the making- of beer. But after 
awhile he asked his father if he might not leave it and learn something- else. Old 
Mr. Cooper said yes, and the young man bovmd himself to a New York coach- 
maker. After he had served his full time — which was until he became of age — his 
employer offered to build him a shop and set him up in business. " But," he says, 
" as I always had a horror ol" being bui'dened with debt, and having no capital of 
my own, I declined his kind offer." 

It was during this apprenticeship — from the time he was seventeen until he was 
liwenty-one — that he felt most keenly his loss of schooling during his early years. 
To be sure, he had been all that time receiving- another kind of education, for he 
stepped into manhood with three good trades at his command ; but this was not 



280 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

tMiouiih. Ho know it, so he boui^iil some books and set about trying" to supply 
what he hiekeil. But there were few books iii those days that helped anybody to 
teach himself, althoui^'h they are plentiful now ; and those that he boug-ht were so 
heavy and learneil that he could not understand a g'ood deal of what they con- 
tained. He looked about for other help. There were then no evening- schools or 
free classes to aid him, but he finally found a teacher who, for small paj^, gave 
him eveniui;- lessons in arithmetic and other branches. It was at this time that he 
resolved, "If (^'er I prosper in business so as to accpiire more property than I 
need, I will try to found an institution in New York wherein apprentice-boys and 
young- mechanics shall have a chance to get knowledge in the evening-." He never 
lost sight of this plan, although it was a long- time before he began to carry it 
out. 

After his apprenticeship was over, he first found employment in a shop where 
machines for sheai-ing cloth were made. Here he learned another trade, and saved 
enough money from his wages to buy the right to make the shearing-machines in 
New York. At this he grew (piite prosperous for those tunes — which was about 
the beginning of the second war with England — and felt vei-y much elated after a 
large sale to find he had five hundred dollars clear profits. What do you think 
he did with it ? Paid his father's debts ! 

He had a good deal of ingenuity and made some improvement on these ma- 
chines that was very successful. This business continued large and prosperous 
until the close of the War of 1SV2. Then the demand g-rew smaller and he gave 
it up. 

Finding a small out-of-town grocery business for sale he bought it, and at the 
ag-e of twenty-thi-ee took up another new occupation. The store stood where the 
Cooper Union now is. This was then some distance above the city, and was sur- 
rounded by fields and vacant lots. But Mr. Cooper's object in buying it was not 
trade. It was property for his Institute he was thinking of. This plot might be 
out in the coimtrj^ then, but he reckoned that it would be a central spot in the fast- 
growing city by the time he should be able to build his evening school ; and now 
the land was cheap, so he bought it, and moved up there Avith his family — for he 
was married by this time — and mulei'took the little grocery business till lie made 
that pay, too. 

Before long, he was also the owner of a glue factory, which he soon made the 
most iniport;vnt in the countiy. Wliat he had made by building machines and in 
his new store, enabled him to paj^ for the glue factory the day he bought it. He 
was at the same time supporting- his aged parents, two sisters, and paying for his 
brother's education in medicine. 

This was thirty years before he began to build the school, but it was the begui- 



Peter Cooper 



281 



ning- toward it 



Whenever he found any of the adjoining pieces of ground for 
sale and could spare the money, he added them to the lirst plot, until, in 1854, he 
owned the whole block on Astor Place, where Third and Fourth Avenues meet. 

Meanwhile, the glue and isinglass business pcospered, and their owner entered 
into other enterprises. In 1838 — about fourteen 3'ears after he moved up town — 








-;•'.:? ■■■■ a . ;•■•.■••■* ' 
'•'>*'■ f '..--. I ••:•'.•■■ ■• I 





Peter Cooper. 

he became interested in Baltimore property. There was great excitement in the 
''Monumental City" then, roused by the promise that the Baltimore and Ohio 
Railroad would soon be finished. Peter Cooper bought three thousand acres of 
land within the city limits for one hundred and fiA'e thousand dollars, hoping-, like 
the others who invested at that time, that great things would come out of the 
new road. But this was a very costly enterprise. Before the first year was 



282 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

passed all the money subscribed for tlie road was used and the stockholders 
seemed likely to lose all they had put in, and refused to supply any more. It was 
then that Cooper's inventive genius did great service. He asked the gentlemen 
to hold on a little and he would show them a steam-engine that might be used 
upon the road. He then designed and built the first locomotive engine made in 
America. 

He says : " This locomotive was built to show that cars could be drawn around 
short curves, beyond anything believed possible. Its success proved that rail- 
roads could be built in a country scarce of capital and with immense stretches of 
verj^ rough coimtry to pass, in order to connect commerce centers, without the 
deep cuts, the tunneling, and leveling which short curves might avoid." 

The locomotive was a success, and saved the great Baltnnore and Ohio Rail- 
road from being bankrupt at the outset and abandoned. But this did not bring 
Cooper any immediate use or return for the Baltimore land. Until the city re- 
covered from the check in its prosperity that was likely to be of scarcely any 
value ; so he made up his mind to build a rolling-mill upon it. 

He set to work upon this plan at once, and before long the Canton Iron Works 
were very prosperous and widely known, foi- in them many g'reat improvements 
were first made in the process of the blast-furnace. They were afterwards re- 
moved to Trenton, and for many j^ears brought immense profit to Mr. Cooper, as 
they now do to his heirs. 

During all this time Mr. Cooper had continued in the North the manufacture of 
glue, isinglass, oil, prepared chalk, and Paris white ; the grinding of Avhite lead, and 
the fulling of buckskins for the manufacture of buckskin leather. But his time 
was not all given to these, numerous as they were. There was scarcely any great 
work of public improvement or philanthropy that he was not interested in, and 
helping along. He was one of the first to aid and encourage building telegraph 
lines in this country, and for eighteen years he was President of the New York, 
Newfoundland, and London Telegraph Company. Governor De Witt Clinton found 
him one of his best helpers in forwarding the Erie Canal scheme, and when the 
question came up of how the boats should be propelled, Cooper invented an end- 
less chain arrang-ement with which experiments were tried before the Governor 
and a distinguished party of canal men. It was not then made use of, but has 
since been adopted to pass boats through the locks. 

In New York City he served in public offices upon the Boards of Assistants 
and of Aldermen. He drew together the old Public School Society and did a great 
deal for the common schools, which has since been followed up by the Board of 
Education, with many vast improvements on the old system. 

In 1854 his plans were ready and his means large enough to begin his long. 



Peter Cooper. 



283 



thoug-lit-of nig-ht school. But he made it much more than that, and established 
the Cooper Institute, with the purpose that it should be '^forever devoted to the 
improvement and instruction of the inhabitants of the United States in practical 
science and art." He not only gave to it a great deal of money, but time and 
thought, and ever so much hard work right in the building. He was there a 
great deal of the time, constantly altering- and adding to it wherever he saw im- 




CooPER Union. 

provements wanting. It is the finest free school of its kind in the country, and 
will remain a monument to him forever. Over two thousand pupils attend it 
every year, coming from all parts of the United States. 

The erect, well-built figure of the founder, and his pleasant, kindly face in its 
frame of snowy -white hair were familiar sig'hts to the students for almost thirty 
years, for he lived to be ninety-two — active, hale and hearty, constantly adding- to 
the long list of his good deeds for others. 

Peter Cooper was born February 12, 1791, in New York City, where he died 
on tiie 4th of April, 1883. 



EMINENT DIVINES. 



ONE of tlu> tirst*i'roat. Christian iiiinisters ami proachers in America was 
flolni l^]li(>t, wlu) will always be known as the Apostle of the Indians. 
'I'his honorable litU> was wmi hy his devotion and success in teaching and conveit- 
luiX the red nuMi of New Eni;"laiul. 

He came to this country, from Eniiland, when he was tAventv-seven years old, 
and it was here that he pivaehed and wrote and taui;ht thri^nj^hout his loni;- life. 
His [)a rents were very devoted Christians, antl he himself saiil that liis lirst years 
" were seasoned with the fear of God, the Woni, and pi-ayer." 

He was thoi'tnii^hly educated at the University of Cambridi^v. avIumv he was 
considered a ii'ood student and an able scholar. He showed a special fondness for 
the study of lani^-uag-es, and this taste was of service to him in later years, when 
he undertiu)k the i^reat work of translatinii- tl\e Bible into the Indian touiiue. 

^Ir. Eliot beUMi,«ed to a family of Eni;lish Puritans, and when he made up his 
nund to become a minister his heart was drawn toward the Puritan colony in the 
New AVorld ; so he deciiled to U\ive his luMue and conu' to wiM'k anunii;" them. 
AnuMiii' Ids fellow-passeniicrs in the loiii^- sailinj;- voyai^v to this country were the 
wife and children of John Winthroj), Covernor of Massachusetts. 

He preaelunl tii'st for a church in Boston, and afterwards for tnie in Roxbury ; 
but tboui^h successful and popular in both those places, it was not in them, but by 
Ids work anioui;- the Indians, that he becanu^ fanu^us. From his first entrance 
iido this new, wild, and almost unknown country, he had been interest^Hl in the 
welfare of the savai^'cs that then (H'cupied the land. They were very ii^-norant 
and micivilized. They roanunl over the country ami had no settled honu's. They 
lived ahnost entirely by huntiui;- and tishiui;-, ami knew very little about farmiui;-, 
and nothini;- of the useful trades and arts, such as house-buildiuii', cloth-weaving", 
or road-buildiui^", while the very words " eilucation " and " relii;"ion " as we 
understand them were unkitown to them. They lived in rude tents, called wiiT- 
wams, and were only half-covered by the animal skins they wore for clotkes. 



John Eliot. 285 

Tlu'ii' only ivlii^'ion was iiuule up of supers! il ions about (load pooi^lt' ; their oliiefs 
Of saclieuis were often men a little more cunning- and shrewd than the otlier In- 
dians, who used their power to abuse and deceive their followers. John Eliot 
saw their degradation and loni;ed to convert them to Christianity and to civilize 
them. 

Finally ho resolved to ii'ive up his roi;-ular and — foi- a Puritan pastor — his com- 
fort a l>lo ])osition in Roxbury to i;'o into the wilderness and minister to them. 
But befoiv doiiii;" this he spent a i^reati deal of time and i)atient work upon leai-n- 
iuii" the Indian lani;ua.i;"e, in order to be able to speak to the savai^es in their own 
tDUi^ue, to have them feel that he unilerstood them and was almost one of them. 
It is believed that he came to know this laui^-uag'e far better than any white man 
who evei- lived, and his ^'reat feat of putlini;- it into written words and letters was 
a wonderful piece of work. He not only translated the whole o'i the Bible into 
the Indian lanuuai;e, but he made an Indian i;-i'annnar to lieli) others to get ac- 
<iuainted with the straniiv lan.n'uaii-e of the tirst Amei-icans. At the «muI of the 
ijrannnar he wrote, " Prayer and pains, thrcuii^h faith in Jesus Christ, will do any- 
thing-." 

Many of the Indians were glad to listen to Eliot's preaching, and gathered 
about him, eager to hear all that he said and to see all that he did. In the 
quaint old records of his work, there are many stories of the curious questions 
they asked him. One Indian wanted to know if Jesus Christ could understand 
prayer in the Indian language, antl another asked how all the world became full of 
people if they were once all drowned. 

But the grand old missionary did not find all ready to hid him welcome. There 
was great opposition to him anil his teachings among- some of the I'ed men, so 
that he was in g-reat dang-ers for his life in staying- among- them. John Eliot 
needed to W the brave man that \\c was to fac(> the experiences lu> endured. Often 
the Indian chiefs did all they coulil to put ditliculties in his way, by hindering him 
from carrying- out his work and to scare him into giving it up, because they were 
afraid of losing their power through his influence. IIt> made long joui-neys altMie 
on foot through the wiliku-ness, and bore all the hardshi{)s of hunger and danger 
and expivsure, without a word of complaint, even cheerfully, saying-, *' 1 am about 
the work of God, I need not fear." 

One of Eliot's dearest hopes was to establish towns for the uumi and wonuMi he 
had taught to beliexe in (Christianity, where they might lea\i> their old savage 
life, and dwell more as civilized people do. He did not wish to have these towns, 
when they were finally founded, too near tlie English settlements. It would be 
better, he thought, for them to be by themselvivs, and to learn to live according- 
to their own understanding of i-elig-ion rather than to copy the ways of any of the 



286 One Htnulred Fcduous Ameiicans. 

Avhite people. He obtained iracls of land for his '^pra.yiiif;" Indians," as they 
were called, and he taught them to raise crops, and pursue other peaceful in- 
dustries. 

His first town was settled at Natiok, Massachusetts, in the year 1660 ; and 
the nuH'1ini;--house built thei'e was the lirst ever raised by Pi'ot(>stauts for the use 
of American Indians. The Jesuits ali'eady had several slations along* the St. 
l^awrence and the g-reat lakes. Eliot also established a i^overnment in at least 
thirteen other little conmiunilies, all on purely religious principles, aiming* to 
make the Bible their only law-book. 

Ill l(!(i;> his complete translation of the Bible was published, (^nly two editions 
wcfc ever printed. Indian disturbances and wai's cauu> on that greatly inter- 
fered with the great missionar\'s ellorts. In about eight yeai's the bloody strug- 
gle known as King Philip's AVar began, and through the unfairness and cruelty 
of the whites all missionary work auu)ng the ti'ibes was now in vain. It is believed 
that there were al)out live thousand " praying Indians '" in America at this time. 

Eliot did all he could to save his converts from the injustices of the colonists, 
but the fiH'ling against all Indians was very bitter, and many o\' them Avere sold 
into slavery. 

He was now an old man, and his life-work was destroyed. Still he kept on 
hoping that some om^ would yet contrive to bring about the salvation and civiliza- 
tion of the Indian race, and he was comfort(>d b\- the thought of the souls he be- 
lieved already saved. 

For some time after lie luramc too feeble to preach, he continued writing relig- 
ious books, anxious that to tlu' very last his life should be a useful one in the great 
calling of saving tlie souls of men. 

John Eliot was born at Nasing, Essex County, England, in If.Ot. He died at 
Koxbury, Massachusetts, on the '.'Otli of May, KiOO. 

IiU'ivase ]>Iat luT was one of a famous family of early Ntnv England preach- 
ers. His fatluM- was an English Pm-itan preacher, his brothers Avei"e preachers, 
and in the prime of his own life he saw his son Cotton one of the most noted of all 
the Puritan clergymen. He was a lad of seventeen, just graduated from Harvard 
College, when the honored John Eliot was past middle life and his work among the 
Indians almost over. 

Mather was a studious young man, and clever, but an educatitHi at Harvard 
College meant much less then than it does now. The great school, like the coun- 
try, was young then, and did not teach nearly so many things, nor so thoroughly, 
as it does now — for no niattci" how bright a boy might be, it would be impossil>le 
for him to graduate there now by the time he was seventeen years old. 



Increase IfatJier. 28? 

The year after Increase Mather finished his colleg-e course he began to preach 
ill Massachusetts, but he went to tlie mother country to assist a brother of liis, who 
was settled as a clergyman in Dublin, Ireland. After four years' stay, he re- 
turned to America, with a good deal more knowledge and experience than when 
he k'ft it, and began preacliing in a church in Boston. 

Di'. Mather was a patriot as well as a clergyman. At this time Charles II. was 
King of England, and as those were the days Avhen all New England was made up 
of British colonies, he had authority over it. King Charles was not a good mon- 
arcli ; he was a selfish man, and^ to raise more monej" for his own use, began to in- 
terfere with the riglits of the American Colonies hy taking away some of their liber- 
ties and making them pay heavier taxes than they were then doing. Dr. Mather 
was fair and honest-minded; he said this Avas unjust, and, as he had a wide influ- 
ence ovei' the people, he did a great deal to oppose the iving, and to make the people 
of Massachusetts careful of their rights. When the trouble between them and the 
king kept on. Dr. Mather went to England as their agent, to tiy and show the 
king and his ministcis how wrongly the Americans were being treated and to get 
him to be more just to them. He succeeded ver^-- well, and when he came back 
there was a day of thanlvsgiving appointed, in which all llie colonists joined hi 
thanking God for his safe return and for the good he had done them in Eng- 
land. 

Our regular Thanksgiving Day began way back in these times. This is a holi- 
day all our own, for no other country has just such a day, just such a good time 
as we on the last Thursday in November. The first Thanksgiving was held for a 
whole week in the autumn of 1621, about ten months after the Pilgrims landed, 
and after that it was the custom to hold them whenever the people felt that they 
had anything' to be especially thankful for. Sometimes there would be two or 
three in a year, and again there would be none for several years. But gradually, 
after about the year 1()()() — twenty-fiv<3 years before Dr. Mathei-'s visit to the King 
of England — the Colonies came to hold a regular Thanksgiving festival every au- 
tumn, sometimes in August and sometimes as late as December ; and in addition 
io these, there were special days of thanksgiving proclaimed like this one, all of 
which the people were commanded by law to keep faithfully. Special fast-days 
were also set by the Governor, for the people to pray to have great needs supplied 
or trials removed. 

The Pilgrims had come to this country to be by themselves in a land where 
they could worship God as seemed to tlieni right, not according to the rites of the 
Established Church, as the laws of England commanded ; they Avere very plain and 
rigid in their ideas of what true religion is, and Avere also extremely strict in the 
ordering of their lives. Very fcAv of them believed that any other Avay than their 



288 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



own was rii:;ht. Tlioir rolii;ioii was the oiio i^roat ma tier of their lives, and tliose 
who did not beheve as they ditl were considered by many as ** servants of the 
Evil C>ne,'' which was a terrible thinij-. Little was known of science and the nat- 
ui'al wonders that are now perfectly nnderstood, and if people seemed to have ex- 
traordinary power in attracting the liking- of others, or were more successful than 
their lUMghbors in almost anyway, they were more than likely to be accused ot 
haviuij;- the " Evil Spirit" in them, and of being called witche.s. Odd and lonely 
old people were especially dreaded oii this account. There was g-reat excitement 
about this in New England at one time, and many poor, innocent men and women 
were imi)risoned and actually hung for witchcraft, tor it was declared tliat they 
had the power and the will to charm others and that they woukl do them no end 
of evil if they were aUowed to li\e. The gi'eatest of this excitement came up dui-- 
ing" Dr. blather's life. But he Iiad no pai't in it. He had too broad and fair a 
mind to believe in any such things, and he spoke very strongly against the cruel- 
ties which the peopk' were ready to practice on the poor old women whom they 
thought were witches. He wrote a book about it that had a good deal of influ- 
ence, and certainly saved many ]X'ople's lives. 

He became President of Har\ai'd College when he was forty-two yeai"s old, 
and both as the head of that famous institution and as a minister he held a very 
high rank among the people of the New England Colonies. His books, Avhich 
were upon religious matters and polities, were very many and important; and 
for his great learning he received the first degree of Doctor of Divinity ever given 
to a man in this country. 

He was both able and devout, and a good speaker, often preaching without 
notes, though at that time most ministers read their sermons. 

Increase Mather was born at Portchester, Massachusetts, on the ::31st of Jarui- 
ary, 1G30. He died in Boston on the ^3d of August, 1723. 



Cotton 3Iatlier, brought up in the strict, religious household of his devout 
and honored father, was very pious from his earliest youlli. AVhen he was a 
school-boy he would pi'a\' with iiis playmates and try and g-et them to be good. 
When he was fourteen he began for himself to observe days of fasting and prayer. 
These were not only tlu' ri'gnlar fast-days that all the New Engianders kept at 
that time, but other ilays al)out which he told no one, and during wliic-h he repent- 
eil of his sins and prayed God to hel|) him to foi'sake them. 

He was sedate and studious, and, of course, went toHarvai'd Colleg'e, as soon 
as lie was prepared. His classmates and liis teachers thought him very bright 
and unusually well educated, and so he was t\)r a New Englander of those times. 
It seems very strange to us to leavn that he went through the course there and 



Cotton Mather 



289 



graduatod by the time he was fifteen, wliich is a younger age than any student 
can now outer. 

Ho studied theology for some tinio after leaving eollogo, and then was ordained 
minister to the same ehurch whore his father proachtnl ; the two men, father and 
son, worked together in this church for many years. 

Dr. Cotton Mather was a man of gi'oat learning and was also very fond of 







Cotton Mather. 

reading. He had the largest library then in America, read continually, and had 
a wonderful memory. He thought it was such a pity to waste time in ci>mmou 
talk that he wrote over his study door : "Be Short,'' so as to prevent people stay- 
ing too long when they came to see him. Still his manner was not rude or cross, 
as this might make one think ; he was kind and gentle, and was an uncommonly 



290 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

interesting- talker ; lie had more fun in him tlian most Puritans, and even liked to 
joke a little. 

All his learning- and g-ood feeling did not keep him, however, from believing 
much too easil}' almost everything- that was told him. He did not understand 
different sorts of people and had not good judgment in dealing with them. These 
faidts made him much less wise than his father when the excitement about 
witches began. Like many other clerg-3'men of his time, he believed the stories 
that were told about witchcraft and charms and unseen power working- evil 
among- men. Though the Ne^v England people were noted for honesty and religion, 
they were in some thing's superstitious and unchristian, and Cotton Mather, learned 
and thoughtful though he was, joined in the general belief that various persons 
were witches, and that they did things to hurt others ; that they made some folks 
lame and others sick without ever g-oing- near them, and that they caused the cows 
to go dr^'^ and the houses to burn down in the same way. Every misfortune that 
came was laid to the power of some witch. 

Of course the poor people Avho were called witches could no more do these 
thing's than any one else, but their neighbors believed they did and that the devil 
helped them, and so many cruel and wicked thing's were done to them. Some- 
times they were even killed. The clergymen were often as much deceived as any 
others, and actually believed these foolish stories, and took part against the poor, 
helpless persons accused of witchcraft. Among- them no one was more cruel than 
Cotton Mather, for he thoug'ht that in persecuting- them he was punishing- the 
devil. Still it seems certain that if he had tried to feel more as Christ felt toward 
ever3'body, even sinners, if he had loved them and felt sorry for them, it would 
have kept him from burning- and hanging- and torturing' his fellow-creatures. 

He Avas even more deceived about them and more in earnest to have them 
punished than were the most of people ; and when others began to feel that per- 
' haps they were unjust and doing' wrong- in being' so cruel. Dr. Mather tried very 
hard — though in vain — to still keep up the popular feeling of persecution. 

This is the only blot on the g-reat man's memory ; and in thinking- of it we 
must remember that many other good people acted then as he did, because they 
thoug'ht it right. Thej^ actually believed that there were witches, that there were 
people who had ceased to be real men and women, but had become other being-s, 
tilled with the devil, or a wicked spirit, ag'ainst whom the Bible has many com- 
mands. That was less than two centuries ago, and j^et now everybody knows 
that there are no such things as witches. 

In some other thing-s, Dr. Mather was a progressive man — even with the times, 
as we say. It was in his day that inoculation was discovered in the East, as a 
means of preventing- people from having- the small-pox. He was one of the first 



Jonathan Edwards. 



291 



to realize the value of this discoveiy, and laid it before famous old Dr. Boylstoii 
and other New England ph3'sicians of his time. He also did much to persuade 
people to he inoculated and so stop the spread of this terrible disease. He was 
always benevolent and kind to the poor when he did not think the^^ w^ere witches. 

He wrote manj^ books ; the principal one has a Latin title, " Magnolia Christa 
Americana," and one edition of it was printed as late as 1855. 

Cotton Mather was born the l'2th of February, 1663, in Boston, where he died 
on the 13th of February, 1728. 




Jonathan Edwards. 



One of the greatest of New England clergymen, and, in some respects, the 
greatest of all American thinkers, w-as Jonathan Edwards. He was what is 
called a metaphysician, or a scholar learned in the philosoph;>' of the mind ; and it 
is said that few people so great as he in this deep and difficult science have ever 
lived. His mind was uncommonh' powerful, from the time he was a little child — 
the only boy among tw^elve sisters. He was only six years old when he began to 
study Latin ; at ten he read Locke's essay on the Human Understanding ; 
and altliough this is a work that most grown people find too hard to comprehend, 
it gave little Jonathan as much delight as boys of his age nowadaj^s feel in the 
stories in the Youtli's Companion or Golderi Days. 

When he was thirteen years old he entered Yale College. In addition to the 



293 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

reg'ular course he took up some deep studies on his own account, carrying- on both 
succossfuUy and graduating before he was sevent<>en. 

Altliough his father was a minister a:ul a devout man of rare learning foi* an 
American two hundred years ag'O, and Jonatlian had always been very religious, 
he did not feel that he really became a Christian until during the last year at col- 
lege. Then, he said, the whole universe seemed chang-ed to him ; he resolved to 
become a minister; and, staymg- on in New Haven after- he graduated, he spent 
the next two years in stud\'ing theology. At the age of nineteen he was licensed 
to preach, and began his first work in a small Presbyterian church in New York 
City. He still kept up his studies, and, not long after receiving the degree of 
Master of Arts, he was appointed to be a tutor at his old college of Yale. Al- 
though not yet much over twenty years of age, he was already becoming known, 
and in a short time he was called away from New Haven to become an assistant 
clergyman to his grandfather, the Reverend Solomon Stoddard, in a Congrega- 
tionalist church in Northampton, Massachusetts. 

Old Mr. Stoddard had been pastor of that church for more than fifty years, 
and now the charge of it was passed into the hands of his promisirig young grand- 
son. Here Edwards married Sarah Piei-repont, a sweet young Puritan, who will 
always be spoken of with the greatest respect, for she was one of the purest, most 
high-minded, and noblest women that ever lived; and here he labored with ear- 
nestness and devotion for twenty-three years. 

It was not an easy, but it was a happy, earnest, useful life, that floAved smoothly 
on, until one day Dr. Edwards spoke out to his people what had been m his mind 
for some time — he refused to overlook in the rich and influential people wrong- 
doing which is forbidden to all church-members, and said plainly that he c-oidd not 
ptn'mit those whose lives Avere inconsistent and unchristian to take places in the 
church as if they were all that they professed to be. Many in his congregation 
were very angry, and a long and bitter quarrel arose. Finally he Avas forced to 
leave the church, Avith a large family and no means of support. But there Avere 
friends in Scotland Avho sympathized Avith him and sent him money, Avhile Mrs. 
EdAvards and her daughters did sewing and sent beautiful handiwork to Boston, 
where it Avas sold and added to the scant income from his ncAv held of Avork, for 
of course Mr. Edwards was not idle. He had soon been asked to go as a mission- 
ary to the Stockbridge Indians in Berkshire County, jMassachusetts, and Avas 
laboring there as devotedly as in the Northampton parish, although it did not sup- 
port his family as Avell. 

One good thing in this change Avas that it gaA-e him more time to study and 
Avrite, and it Avas really as a Avriter that he had the greatest poAver. He did not 
haA'e a very good voice for public speaking, and he AA-as thin and not particularly 



Jonathan Edwards. 293 

pleasing in his looks, except as people liked the earnestness, the gentleness, and 
goodness they saw there ; and, though he was not an orator, they loved to hear 
him preach because he understood so well what he believed and told it to them so 
clearly and forcibly. 

While in Berkshire County he found time to write his great book on "The 
Freedom of the Will," which has made him famous ever since, and has been read 
by the most learned men both here and in Europe. He studied very hard at this 
time, spending usually thirteen hours a day with his books and manuscripts. 
Then when his health was threatened by this confinement he would take long 
horseback rides, and stud3" and read and pray in the woods. His wife was very 
devoted to him, and wanted him to have all his time for his sermons and his books, 
and so she attended to all the business of tlie house herself, and did not let people 
interrupt him about little things. 

Mr. Edwards was not content to believe in his religion in any half-hearted way. 
He believed in it more than in anything else in the world. He felt sure that people 
who followed the teachings of the New Testament would be saved from everlast- 
ing distress, and that people who did not would lose eternal happiness ; and he felt 
so dreadfully to think that people whom he knew and preached to should be pun- 
ished through all etei'uity for their sins, that at times the thought almost crazed 
him. He would walk the floor through long hours of the night weeping over the 
unconverted members of his flock and praying for them. 

People who were in trouble, or anxious about the sins thej^ had committed, or 
wished to inquire the way to become Chi'istians, always found a sympathetic friend 
and a wise adviser in him. There were many such people to gather around him, 
and men and women often came long distances to see him. 

In those days ministers had more arguments with each other than they do now. 
One minister, thinking- one way, would Avrite out his views or preach them, and 
some other minister who did not altogether agree with him would reply and say 
what he thoug-ht ; then the first one would answer back ; and thus they would go 
on in long debates, each trying to convince the other of what he thought true, and 
also trying to bring every one interested in the discussion to his way of think- 
ing. In these arguments even ministers often lost their tempers and really came 
to have ill-feeling toward those who did not agree with them. 

]\Ir. Edwards, being known as an eminent divine and a great thinker, often 
took part in such debates as these; but he was far too Christ-like a gentleman to 
allow himself to be rude to his opponents, and although he tried hard to prove 
the truth of his belief and to make others see it as he did, he always treated his 
opponents politely. When they were unkind to him he did not get angrj', but did 
good for evil. This now does him as much honor as all his religious writings. 



294 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

When he was past fifty years old tlie death of his son-in-law, the Reverend 
Aaron Burr, left Princeton Colleg'e without a president, and he was called to 
till the place. He did not want to g'o, for a quiet life in which he could read and 
study and write seemed much better \o him than the honor of being a college 
president, but lie felt that he ought to accept a place that would give him so 
many chances to do good. 

Mr. Edwards only held this position for five weeks. Soon aft^r he accepted it 
he was taken sick with the small-pox. and died in a very short time. His last 
words were. " Trust in God and ye need not fear." 

Jonathan Kdwanls was born at East Windsor, Connecticut, on the 5th of Octo- 
ber, 1703. He died in Princeton, New Jersey, on the 22d of March, 1T58. 

When the Continental Congress declared the American Colonies independent 
of Great Britain, there was one clergyman in their midst. John AVitherspooii, 
a Scotchman, who fixed his name to the great paper with as nuich devotion as if 
he had been born and bred in the most patriotic of New England families. Yet 
he had onlv been in America ten vears. He had come here when he was over 
fortv vears old, as an eminent Presbvterian clerii-vman and scholar, in answer to 
an invitation to become president of Princeton College. 

He was a native of the Scottish Lowlands and was of fine old stock, for the 
great John Knox was his ancestor. At the age of fourteen he entered the famous 
University of Edinburgh and there studied mitil he was twenty-one, for in those 
days the course of study and the teaching of those old schools far outstripped the 
standard of the little American colleges. The tinest scholars in the world went 
thei'e to studv, anil a student must be verv able indeed to become noted among 
them; yet while Wit herspoon was studying" theology he actually astonished his 
t<?achers when they found how much he had thought about different matttM's in 
theology, how deep ant.! wisi^ his understanding of them was, and how clearly he 
was able to express himself about them. 

In the first two churches that he had charge of aft<?r he entered the nnivei'sity, 
he soon made such a reputation by his preaching and writing that he had calls to 
go to several foreign countries. He was invited to Dublin and to Rotterdam 
about the same time that the trustees of the College of New Jersey, at Princeton, 
asked him to become its President. Both the other places offered would have 
given him more money, pleasanter surroundings, and friends of more Avealth, 
learning, and importance, than the new little college of New Jei*sey could afford. 
But Dr. Witherspoon thought that he could do more good in this country than in 
learned Dublin or wealthy Rotterdam; so here he came and settled in the little 
outrof-the-way Ncav Jersey village. He was so well known for piety and learning 



Timothy Dwight. 295 

even here — far as it was fi-om where he had been living: — that as soon as he 
took charge of the eollei^'e a g'reat many new students bei^an to go to it from 
all parts of tlie CVilonies. He was a g'reat and successful Avorker, and his labors 
soon l)ei;au to tell in the college. Money and students poured into it, so that 
by the time the Revolutiori began it was in a very flourishing condition. 

But this gi-eat event turned the thoughts of all our people, yomig and old, 
from the education and future of the rising generation to the great needs and 
perils of the present; throughout the length and breadth of the land, schools 
and colleges were almost forgotten, Princeton with the rest. Many of her 
young men went into the army, and her patrons gave all the money they could 
raise to the Government to help buy powder and lead and guns to fight the 
English with. Dr. Witherspoon himself joined in with the patriots. The citizens 
of New Jersey- were so sure of his wisdom and his loyalty to his adopted country 
that they sent him to the convention called to make their State Constitution. 
Here he did so well, showing that he understood statesmanship as well as theol- 
ogy, that he was sent to the Continental Congress, where he signed the Declara- 
tion of Independence. But while he was busy with State and National politics 
he did not lay asitle the ministry. He always thought that to preach the Gospel 
was the highest privilege a man could have. 

As soon as the country was once more at peace, he went back to Princeton to 
again help to build uj) his beloved college. Many people thought that if he would 
go to England and Scotland he could get a good deal of money to help the work 
along, from people who were interested in America and who wanted to help edu- 
cate its youth. He thought himself that it was too soon after the war for the 
British people to want to do anything for the United States ; but on the advice of 
his friends he went. It proved that he was right, for, although he raised a little 
money for the colleg'e, the journey Avas an unprotitable one. 

After he came back, the rest of his life was spent in Princeton, quietly at work, 
teaching and preaching and writing. During the last two years he was blind, 
but he was often led to the pulpit, where he preached with all his usual ease and 
power. 

John Witherspoon was born in Tester, Scotland, February 5, 1722. He died 
in Princeton, New Jersey, November 15, 1794. 

Timothy Dwight, one of the greatest of American theologians, was a 
grandson of Jonathan Edwards. His mother was Mr. Edwards's daughter, and 
Dr, Dwight alwaA's thought that he owed more to his mother's good influence 
over him when he was a child than to any other one earthly thing. Mrs, Dwight 
was not only a good and pious woman, but she had a flne mind, and was so well 



296 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

educated that she taug-ht her son through all his earlN- years. He was a very 
bright child and learned so easily that when he was four years old he could read 
the Bible very well. He was sent to Yale College when he was fourti^en. and 
there, away from the intluence of his good mother, he was for a time led into idle- 
ness and Avrong-'doing-. But he* soon found that it is neither pleasant nor profit- 
able to misbehave, and so he guve up his newly learned evil ways and began to 
study hard to make up for lost time. 

After he g'raduated he taught school in New Haven for awhile, and even when 
teachitig was so anxious to keep on learning himself that he studied eight hours 
a dav. 

When he was nineteen years old he was chosen to be a tutor in Yale Colleg-e, 
and he kept that position for six years. 

After the Declaration of Independence was adopted by the Continental Con- 
gress, and the news of it spread to New Haven, Dwight — then twenty years old — 
procured a copy of the g-reat document, read it over, and made a speech to the 
students about the important step which Congress had taken. He spoke with 
g'reat wisdom and foresig-ht of the future of this conntiy. The Colonies, or the 
United States as they were to be called, were very small and held but few people 
then, but, said Mr. Dwig-ht, the growth of the country will be enormous ; and he 
even foretold the manner in which certain States, snch as Texas and California, 
would come under the anthority of the republic then making- its firet bold efl'ort to 
become an independent government. 

About this time Mr. Dwight began to attract the attention of learned and 
thoughtful people by his knowledge of the Bible and his taste and eloqnence in 
talking and writing about it. While he was a tutor at Yale he wrote an epic 
poem called '' The Concxuest of Canaan." He was noted as a fine teacher of math- 
ematics, but he was even more interested in studying- and teaching- oratory and 
rhetoric. He did not imderstand taking- care of his health, but worked so hard, 
teaching- and studying, and took so little exercise out-of-doors that his health broke 
down, and it seemed for awhile that he wonld never be able to do much more. He 
began to think about taking- care of his body now, and to try and do what was 
good for himself, and in a year or so he was well again. After that serious lesson 
he never again neg-lected his health, but took cai-e to keep as well and strong as 
he could, so that he was able to work for the next forty years. 

During- the second year of the Revolution he married, and was also licensed to 
preach by the Cong-reg-ationalist Cliurch, His first work as a minister was in the 
army, where he was made chaplain to one of the brigades in General Putnam's 
division of the Continental forces. While m the army he wrote several patriotic 
song-s; one of them, called *' Columbia," was once quite celebrated. 



Timothy Dwight. 



297 



Ho was called awav from the war bv the death of his father. ITis mother was 
now ag'ed, and he was lier eliief comfort and support; he Ihouiilit ili rii^ht to stay 
with her, and for several years his life was spent on the old homestead near 
Noi'thampton ; he worked on the farm, read and studied, and once in a while 
preached in the neighboring- villag-es. He was a man of so much learning- and wis- 
dom and ability that his neighboi-s felt that he oug-ht to have a more prominent 
place before the world than this, so they elected him to the Massachusetts Legisla- 
ture. He proved a wise law-maker, but his life was devoted to the ministry, and 




Timothy Dwight. 

he soon wai\ti^d to leave political affairs and g-o back to preaching-. Instead of 
settling- ag-ain on the farm, he accepted a call to a chm-ch at Greenfield, Connecti- 
cut, where he received a salarv of live hundred dollars a vear. This would now 
seem a small sum for anv g-ood clergvman, vet a hundred vears ago it was all 
that this g-reat man could command, scholar, preacher, and writer though he 
was. 

As he had now a larg-e family of children to bring- up and educate, he opened 
a school in which he couhl Ifach them and by having- other pupils make a little 
money to add to his income at the same time. He stayed in Greenfield for twelve 
years, teaching and preachiui^ and earnestly trying- to do all the good he could, 



298 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

During this time his poem, the " Conquest of Canaan," which he had written so 
many years before, was published for the first time. Soon after he published 
another poem, called "Greenfield Hill," from the hill where his school-house 
stood. Both of these added to his reputation as a skilled literary scholar and 
gave him a place among American poets. 

Dr. Dwight's great talent was for teaching young people. After awhile this be- 
came known beyond the little Connecticut village, and he was called to leave Green- 
field Hill and become president of Yale College. He was asked to undertake even 
more than that, and while he stood at the head of the college, he was also ProfeS' 
sor of Theology in the Divinity School. 

For five years, near the close of his life, he spent his summer vacations in 
traveling through New York and the New England States. There were then no 
steamboats or railroads. Sometimes people journeyed in their own carriages or 
rode their own horses, and sometimes they went in public stage-coaches that 
charged a fare as railroads do now ; but whatever was the conveyance, travelers 
could go no faster on land than horses could take them, or on water than men 
could row or the wind could blow their sails. So, to travel even a little took 
a gTeat deal of time and also patience and endurance. 

Dr. Dwight traveled far more than most men did at that time ; when he got 
as far west as Utica, New York, it was thought wonderful that anybody, but 
especially a man of his years, should see so much of the world. 

He wrote about all he saw, and published a description of his wanderings that 
filled four volumes, and were among the most important books on America 
brought out during the early part of this century. Dr. DAvight gave a great 
deal of time to writing in the later years of his life, only laying aside the pen 
toward the very last months. His character was full of faith and humility, and, 
although he had been such a good and useful man all his life, he sorrowed that 
he had not been better and done more for Christ and for his fellow-men. 

Dr. Dwight was born at Northampton, Massachusetts, on the 14th of May, 
1752. He died at New Haven, Connecticut, on the 11th of January, 1817. 

About four months before the War of 1812 broke out in this country against 
Great Britain, the first American missionar3^ party to India was made up, and 
sailed for Calcutta. Among them was Acloiiirani Judsoii, a young man 
of twenty-four years, who had been ordained a minister in the Congregational 
Church, just two weeks before. He and his young wife were the leading mem- 
bers of the devout and zealous little band. He had been the means of bringing 
about their undertaking by writing a letter to the Congregational Societj^ in Mas- 
sachusetts, saying that he and five other young men wanted to go and pr-each to 



Adoniram Jiidson. 299 

the heathen, and asking- advice about how to set about it. Soon after receiving 
tliis letter the society formed the American Board of Commissioners for Foreig^n 
Missions, and Mr. Judson was sent to tall< tlie matter over witli the London Mis- 
sionary Society, and to see if they would aid the Americans. 

Although young-, he was already fitted for the work to which he had offered 
himself. His father, a Cong-regationalist clergyman in Massachusetts, had taken 
g-reat care to train him to become a good and useful man. His mother, too, gave 
a great deal of time to his education. She taug-ht him to read when he was only 
thi-ee years old, arid took much pains to turn his interests in the right direction. 
Even then he learned remarkablj^ quickly and easil^y. His first reading-book was 
the Bible. When only a half-grown lad, he was ready for college, and went to 
the one at Providence, Rhode Island, which is now called Brown University. 
When he was a little boy he used to like to play that he was a preacher ; and 
standing in a chair for a pulpit he would deliver long- sermons to other children. 
He would go throug-h all the service as he saw his father do at church, but when 
the time for singing- came, he almost always chose the same hymn — one whose 
first line is " Go preach my gospel, saith the Lord." 

By the time Adoniram was nineteen he graduated from college with the 
highest honors. But instead of planning- to be a minister, as he had wanted to be 
when he was a child, he was for some time uncertain about the truth of the Chris- 
tian religion. He thought a g-reat deal about it, and there seemed to him many 
reasons why he could not believe it. In this state of mind he thought it would be 
a g'ood thing- to g-o to the Andover Theological Seminary and try to learn from 
the teachers there what evidence there was that Christianity was the only true 
religion. The Andover professors welcomed him, for they were sure that any 
one who was honestly tr3ing- to learn the truth would soon become a Christian. 
They were not disappointed in Mr. Judson. Soon all doubt left his mind. In six 
weeks he was converted, and soon resolved to become a minister himself. 

From the first he wanted to go to heathen countries as a missionary. His 
interest in foreign missions helped to make some other students think about the 
need of doing good to the heathen, and not long after they offered themselves to 
the work the first foreign missionary society in America was formed. 

The Miss Hasseltine who married Mr. Judson Avas a lovely Christian woman, 
who was as much interested in missions as he was. After her marriage she be- 
came one of the most celebrated, devout, and successful missionaries the world has 
ever had. 

With this helpfid wife, and with another devout minister and his wife, who 
were also going- to work in the missionary cause, Mr. Judson started for India to 
preach the Gospel to those who had never heard of Christ. 



300 One Hundred Famous Anterieans. 

On the voyag-e Mr. and Mrs. Jiulsoii, through their own studies, chang-ed tlieir 
opinions about baptisini. They became convinced that to be immersed was the 
only true way to unite with the Christian Church, anil that they were no longer 
Cong-reg-ationa lists, but Baptists. So, very soon after their vessel arrived at 
Calcutta, they were immersed and joined a Baptist church. The influence of 
this step extended to America, and, with other things, awakened a new feeling 
here in regard to missions, and led to the foi-ming- of the American Baptist Mis- 
sionary Union, which has been a powerful society for the spi-eading- of the Gospel 
in many lands. 

Mr. Judson soon went to Burmah, where he worked man}" years, doing every- 
thing- he could to teach the nations about Cliristianity, and to convert them to 
believing in God and Clirist. His first convert was baptized about a month after 
he began preaching-, and it made him very glad to feel that he had really beg'un 
to succeed. All the time he diliii'entlv studied the Burmese lan^-uaii'e, translating 
hito it passages of Scripture and other writing's that taught the natives the Chris- 
tian relig'ion. He obtained a printing'-press, and printed copies of the Gospel of 
Matthew, which he g-ave out among- the people. 

He and his wife had to endure many hardships; in Avriting- about him after- 
wards Mrs. Judson told how unpleasant it was for him to bear the dirty, rude 
habits of the native people among- whom he worked and lived. He was always a 
very fastidious, neat, orderly person. "While he did not care what his clothes 
were made of, or how old-fashioned they might be, they had to be clean, if he 
washed them himself. But when he chose this life he expected to take whatever 
it might bring of personal unpleasantness or discomfort, and year after 3'ear he 
labored devotedly on. 

After a while he had g-athered a church of eighteen members, while the interest 
and friendship of many other natives had been -vvon by the helpful kindness and 
other good traits of character they saw in the Chi-istian missionary and his follow- 
ers. He was just getting well established, when a war broke out between the 
East India Company and Burmah which brought great distress and danger to 
the foreigners in the land. At that time Dr. Judson was at Ava, the capital ; the 
Biu-mese officers went to his house, seized him and, binding him with chains, car- 
ried him off to prison. For two years he was kept in this wretched condition, not 
only away from his work, but cruelly treated and neglected. He was barely 
saved by Mrs. Judson from dying- of hung-er and suffering, She begged the king-'s 
favor and made presents to hhn, and was sometimes allowed to visit her poor 
husband and take things to him. At last he was sot free, and began a new mis- 
sion at Amherst. Before long he was again called to Ava to act as interpreter — 
the same errand that took him there befoi-e — and this time met with another afliic- 



Adoniram Judson. 301 

tioii. Mrs. Judson, worn out with work and one attack of fever after another, 
died while he was away. 

The next dozen years were spent in very hard but successful ministering and 
preacliiuii-. In the city of Maulmein he was often seen in public preaching- and 
reading- the Scriptiu'es to any who would stop to listen, ]\[any gathered about 
him, and a great deal of knowledge was spread among- the people in this way. 
Meanwhile Mr. Wade, another missionary, did the same thing in another part of 
the town, and together they formed quite a little church among the natives, al- 
though thei'e was such strong- opposition to Christianity that it took a great deal 
of courage for the Burmese to leave their people and acknowledge themselves of 
the missionaries' religion. 

In adilitiou to his labors in the city. Dr. Judson made several trips into the 
coiuitry, and lent his powerful aid to many branches of the good work ; but soon 
after he reached the age of fifty he began to have a great deal of trouble in bad 
health. He made several changes, but finally, in 1845, lie left Burmah with his 
whole family. There was now a new Mrs. Judson, who was the widow of Dr. 
Boardman, and a great and noble woman. She had been for many years earnest 
and active in mission woi'k in Burmah with her first husband, but now she was in 
bad health and her life, it was thought, could only be saved by returning- at once 
to America. Even this Avas in vain : she died at sea, and, leaving her buried on 
the island of St. Helena, her husband came on to America with his motherless 
children. 

It was thirty-four yeai^s since he had left home. The people who remem- 
bered him as a fair-faced young- student of twenty-four, now saw a middle-aged 
man, so tanned that he Avas almost as dark as a native of the sunny land from 
which he had come. If the people who remembered him when he left them were 
surpi'ised at the change time had made in him, so also was he surprised at many 
great changes in the land and the people he had left. The greatest difference 
he saw was in the way Christian people had g-rown to feel about foreign missions. 
"When he had gone away few persons took any interest in them, and many did not 
believe in them ; when he came back he found all the churches eager to do all they 
could to make Christians of the heathen. Besides this, he was surprised to find 
that he and his work were so well known that thousands of people were eag^er to 
see and hear him. 

He stayed here less than a year and then went back to Burmah, with the cele- 
brated writer, "Fanny Forrester" — whose real name had been Miss Eniilv 
Chnbbnck — for his wife. But he was not to work there much longer. In a few 
years his health failed, and he died while trying to regain it so as to be able to go 
OD with the missionary work which he loved above almost anything else in the Avorld. 



302 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

But he had ah'eady done so iiuich that it did not stop with his death. He left 
many native Cliristians, anxious to lead their countrymen, a number of g'ood 
native teachers and pastors whom he had trained, a Burmese Bible, and other g-ood 
books, and a large Burmese-Eng-lish dictionary that w^as not quite finished. 
With these the g-ood work was started to g-o on forever. 

Mr. Judson was born in Maiden, Massachusetts, on the 0th of August, 1788. 
He died on ship-board on the Indian seas on the 12th of April, 1850. 

One of the most gifted and celebrated clergymen who e\er preached the Gospel 
and worked for Christianity in this country was John Joseph Hughes, the 
first Roman Catholic Archbishop of New York. He was born in Ireland near 
the end of the last centui\y, and came to this country when he was twenty years 
old. His chief desire from the time he was a very little boy was to become a 
priest in the Catholic Church. He was encouraged in this by his father and 
mother. They were good, uprig'ht, industrious people of the small farming class 
of Ulster, Ireland. Both were earnest and devout, and the father was fond of 
reading and was better educated than many of the men of his standing-. Both 
Mr. and Mrs. Hugiies took the greatest pains to train their children to be pious 
and firm in their faith in the Catholic Church. 

As soon as John was old enough he was sent with his older brothers to a day- 
scliool near their home, and after that he went to a g-rammar-school at a town 
two or three miles away. In both places he was a serious, hard-working student, 
but a jolly playfellow when he left his books, and a leader in the boys" sports. 
Whatever he did was done in earnest, Avhether it was work, study, or play. In 
these days at his old home John Hughes laid the foundation of a good English 
education, but of Latin and Gi^eek he knew very little, perhaps nothing ; yet these 
and many more things must be studied before he could enter the ministry ; and 
meanwhile his father's farms — for Pati-ick Hughes owned two sizable places at 
one time — had fared ill, the household was in distress, John had to be brought 
home from school. The neighbors offered to make up a ]iurse to help him along in 
his study for the priesthood, but both father and son felt too proud to accept it. 
So he took his share of manual work with the other boys, but was told to save 
a little time for his studies. 

This was two years before he came to America, and he was eighteen years old. 
Obediently, b\it not cheerfullj^, he returned to the farm, but before long, seeing- he 
felt very unhappy, his father got a place for him on a great countrj^-seat near 
by, where the g-ardener had said he would teach the lad g-ardening — a very g*ood 
thing for him it pi-oved in another country. He did his dut\- here, found time t-o 
help in light tasks about the home-fai-m beside, and, in addition to both, spent 



John Joseph Hughes. 303 

most of his nig-ht hours in study. This was not because he was very fond of study 
for its own sake, but because a priest must have some learning, and he was re- 
solved to be a priest in spite of all difflculties. 



John Joseph Hughes. 

As time went on the Hughes's farm seemed to do no better. Crops did not im- 
prove ; and at last, after many talks about it, the father decided to see what he 
could find in the new country across the sea. He took one son with him, leaving 
his wife and daughters with John and another boy to look after their place. 



304 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

There was another great reason with them why tliey hoped to find a home in 
America. Tliere, tliey Icnew, the Catliolic rehi^ion was free from persecution, 
while in Ireland its followers were sometimes ill-used by the Protestants of the 
Established Church of the Kini^dom of Great Britain and Ireland. When the 
father sent word for them to follow him John was probably- the happiest of all the 
family in the prospect of living- in the great free country. 

He came by himself, a year after the father, and reached the United States in 
181T, wluMi he was twenty years old. He soon got to work, altliough for quite a 
long while it was mostly hard labor at ditch-digging, road-mending, and stone- 
breaking, any honest thing he could find to do. But all the time he was longing 
to continue his education so that he might become a priest in the Catholic Chm-ch. 
He triiHl (o save up money to go to college, but his wages were so small that his 
savings accumulated very slowly. 

He heard when he was about twenty-one that poor students were sometimes 
admitted free to Mount St. Mary's CVitholic College and Theological Seminary, 
near Enunitsburg, Maryland. 

John Hughes had no powei-ful friends to introduce or recommend him, so he 
went there alone and asked if he could enter. But the college could onlv take a 
limited number of free students at a time, and the list was already full when he 
applied. He was not easily discouraged, ;uid went there again and again to see 
if any vacancy had occurred. Finalh', lest he should miss the priceless chance 
when it did come, he went to Emmitsburg to stay, getting whatever work he 
could to support himself till the longed-for opportunity should cotue. Though he 
worked as an ordinary day-la boier. he shoAved so nmcli mind and character, and 
was so gentlen^anly in his behavior that his society was sought by people much 
above him in worldly position. He boarded in the house of the village school' 
master, and spent nuu-h time with the parish pi'iest. 

Finall\- he got so tired waiting for a vacancy in the free list that he went to the 
president and begged him to let him enter the college and pay his tuition by 
work ; he was willing to do anything that was needed about the place. 

President Du Bois said theii' \\;is only one such situation then vacant: that 
was the gardener's : the college needed a gardener. John Hughes said that gar- 
dening Avas not his regulai" business, but he knew sonu^thing about the work, and 
thought, he could till the i)lace satisfactorily. So, at the age of twenty-two, as 
head gardener and special student he eidered jMount St. JMaiy's College. He was 
not lilted to enter the classes at once, but studied with a private teacher for some 
months before becoming a regular student. 

This happy life of hard study and car(>fnl superintending the laborers on the 
college grounds had been going on for almost a year, when one day President 



John Joseph Hughes. 305 

Du Bois found Iliig-hes in the g-arden at dinner-time, poring over his book, 
instead of eating- his meal. "This," thought the good president, "is wonderful 
industry," and he began to question the young man upon his studies. The 
answers astonished him; the rapid progress Hughes had made revealed to him 
that this capable gardener and eager student was much more than an ordinary 
person. He resohed that in future he should have very little gardening to do, and 
should have the chance to devote most of his time to his books. 

Here at college John Hughes showed something of that love of argument and 
devotion in defending his Church which were most marked traits in his character 
when he became a great and noted man. 

About four years aft«r he first worked his way into the college, he began to 
study theology and to feel that the great desire of his life was surely coming 
within his grasp. In two years more he was made a deacon and began to preach, 
and in the next year — 18'3G — he was ordained priest. He was then about twenty- 
nine years old. The first parish put in his charge was in a rough, thinly-settled 
mountain district of Pennsylvania, which he soon left to go to Philadelphia. 

His tireless zeal and devotion, together with his bright mind and increasing 
eloquence had already impressed many people. There had been much trouble and 
dissension in the Catholic congregations of Philadelphia before he went there, and 
the place he was to fill needed a man of sound wisdom and Christian feeling, Mr. 
Hughes act*^d with a great deal of discretion and made many friends. He then — 
as always — devoted every moment that he could to such reading and study as he 
hoped would better fit him for his life-work. He was so successful that he soon 
became a noted man in the Catliolic Church of America ; he worked for everything 
that he felt to be the good of religion, and was so unceasing in liis labors that if 
he had not been an uncommonh' strong man he would have broken down his 
health. 

At the age of forty he Avas appointed Bishop of New York. When he was 
about to leave Philadelphia to take his new office and settle in a new home, he had 
many invitations to spend his last evening in the city with prominent people ; but 
refusing them all, he chose instead to pass it with a humble old friend whom he 
had first known when they^ were both day-laborers. Tluis. in pure friendship, he 
quietly spent his last hours before coming to New Yorl-c to receive in St. Patrick's 
Cathedral the great and solenm honor of being consecrated a Bishop of the Church 
of Ronu\, over the most important State in the Union. 

Aftin- twelve years of earnest, able work in the duties of this office, the Bishop 
rose to a still higher place of honor, and became Archbishop of New York. He 
now grew to be more widely known to the nation than ever before. During the 
War of the Rebellion he was strongly in favor of the Union, and from the time the 



306 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Cvr/iflict beg-an he was in constant correspondence with Secretaiy Seward, and ex- 
changed a number of letters with the President on inatt<?rs connected witli tlie war. 
At this time he even fulfilled some public duties, g'oing- to Europe for the Govern- 
ment on a special mission, for the purpose of streng'thening- France and Eng-land 
in their friendly attitude to the United States. 

John Joseph Hughes was born at Annaloghan, Ireland, on June 24, 1T9T. He 
died in New York City, January 5, 18C4. 

During: the Revolutionarj^ War a baby came into the Channing- family at 
Newport, Rhode Island, that grew up to be one of the most noble and influential 
men in American history. He was named for his uncle, William Ellery, one of the 
patriots who sig'ned the Declaration of Independence ; and both his parents were 
people of high principles, pure character, and able minds. All these good quali- 
ties their son inherited, and from his babjiiood William Ellery Cliaiiniiig 
showed a lovely, gentle, generous character, as well as extraordinary intellect. 
He was also very beautiful, with a charm of personal attractiveness that he kept 
through life. He was not very tall, but had a muscular and graceful figure, a 
handsome head, and bright and expressive eyes. His loving nature seemed to feel 
for everything- as well as everybody. At the age when most lioys like to tease cats 
and set dogs on each other, the little Channing- lad was full of kindness to animals ; 
he could not bear to see anything- suffer, and wanted to make the birds, the dog's, 
the cats, as well as the people about him, as happy as he could. He was so orderly 
and studious at school that his teachers used to wish all their pupils were like 
him. 

When he was fifteen j^ears old he was sent to Harvard College. Here it was 
said that, altog-ether, he Avas the best scholar in his class, although the class was 
a particularly brilliant one. Many of its members afterward camg to be among 
the most important and famous men of their time. Harvard points Avitli pride to 
her list of graduates in 1798, for beside the name of Channing- and several others 
almost as well known throughout the country, were those of Judge Story, the 
great jurist, and Dr. Tuckerman, the Unitarian divine, who helped to found the 
American Seamen's Friend Society. 

There was a great deal of interest kept up among the members of this famouii 
class, and the friendship between some of its great members lasted as long as 
they lived. Dr. Channing- said that among- all the able young- men in it, Story 
took the lead, but the opinion of the great Judge was that Channing was its best 
scholar. In certain thing-s there is no doubt that he was superior to all the others. 
He was the best orator and could translate Latin into more g-racef ul, poetical Eng-- 
lish than any of them. He took great pains to learn to use the English languag-e 



William Ellery Channing. 307 

well, and his writing's finally came to have a most beautiful style. They have a 
lasting- value, too, and will be read with admiration for many years to come. He 
did not learn this art without giving- a great deal of study and effort to it. He 
said himself that when he first began to write essays at colleg-e he could not say 
what he wanted to, and that his sentences were awkward and hard to understand. 
But he overcame all that and rose to an eminent place among- the best authors in 
the English languag-e. His style was not only clear and forcible, but eleg'ant and 
sometimes even lofty and stirring in its eloquence. An able Eng-lish critic said 
he was unquestionably the finest writer of his ag-e. In his works are some of the 
richest poetry' and most beautiful of thoughts, clothed in languag-e which few 
writers have equaled. Yet his writings are all as remarkable for their simplicity 
as for the poetical g-race that is noticed even in his plainest prose. Many of his 
essays are upon books and authors, for he took a g-reat deal of interest in literary 
subjects. His favorite poets were Shakespeare and Wordsworth. The sweet 
verses of the g-reat Lake Poet were not then as well known or as much admired as 
they are now, but from his first acquaintance with him Channing- thought him 
one of the greatest poets in the English language. 

After leaving college Mr. Channing was tutor in a Virg-inia family for awhile, 
and then, returning- to the North, he became Regent of Harvard, at the same time 
stud3ing theology-. He said once that he thought religion was the only treasure 
worth pursuing-, and that the man who spreads it among- people was more useful 
than the greatest sag-e and patriot who adorned the page of history. But he 
could not quite make up his mind about becoming- a minister himself. Finally, 
seeing that there were around liim so many people who did not lielieve in God, h^ 
resolved to look more closel;^^ into the Christian religion than he had ever done be- 
fore. It was in this way that he came to understand its truth and beaut3', and at 
last to be filled with the idea that he oug-ht to devote his life to showing it forth to 
others. 

Before this he had spent a good deal of time in the company of his uncle, Henry 
Channing, who was a minister, and who was very gentle and liberal, and felt that 
other people who were honestly seeking the truth had as good a right to their 
views as he had to his. This spirit was very like Mr. Channing's own feeling, and 
being with his uncle must have made him still more tolerant. Through all his 
ministry he was noted for this sweet, Christian spii'it. 

After he was licensed to preach, he became pastor of the Federal Street Uni- 
tarian Societ3^ For twenty 3^ears he fulfilled the duties and carried the cares of 
this large church without an assistant. But in 18-22— when the famous preacher 
w^as thirty- two years old — his congregation had grown so large and his duties 
so heavy that his people — who loved him as a father — determined to emplov 



308 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

another minister tio help him. This g-ave Dr. Channing- an opportunity to visit 
Europe. 

Two years before this, Harvard University had conferred on him the title of 
Doctor of Divinity, for he was now a very profound and learned man. His fame 
extended throughout this and several other countries. His writings and the ac- 
counts of his preachiug had made for him many friends, and some of the greatest 
authors and statesmen in Em-ope Avere glad of a chance to meet him and talk 
Avith him. He saw Coleridge and Wordsworth, the poets, and was made a wel- 
come guest in England, France, Switzerland, and Italy. 

After about a year's stay, he came back, as devoted to his church as ever and 
better able to do good to his people than before. His pastorate with them lasted for 
nearly twenty years longer — years full of good work and honorable piddic service. 

While lie labored hardest to spread and teach the Christian religion, there was 
scarcely any gooil work of public ivfoi'm in which he was not a helper. Temper- 
ance, peace, and anti-slavery were causes that he felt deeply interested in; and no 
man of his time— or perhaps no man at any time — has done more than lie to 
increase the feeling of good-will among our people, and to keep down narrowness 
and bigotry. He was very much opposed to debates for the sake of showing off 
opinions or of trying to talk people into liis own beliefs. He wanted, above almost 
anything else, to have his hearers be true to their own thoughts and convictions, 
not to blindly adopt his. 

He was one of the most eloquent speakers we have ever had, and strangers in 
Boston crowded to hear him ; while his regular congregation grew larger and 
larger. His was such a gentle, generous nature that he made very few enemies 
even among the people whose actions he condemned. The poet Coleridge put into 
words the thoughts of many when he said that Cha lining had the love of Avisdom 
and the wisdom of love. Everything he ever wrote or said showed the desire to 
make ]ieople better and happier. 

He was never very strong, and in the Inter years of his life suffered much from 
ill-health. AVhile taking a Journey in the hope of getting stronger, he grew very 
ill at Bennington, Vermont. When he found that he was so sick that he might 
die there, he said : " I should wish, if it is the will of Providence, to be able to re- 
t uni home to die there.'- Tlien aftiM- a moment he added, " But it will all be well 
— it is all well." In his last hours of consciousness he asked that the Bible might 
be read to him, and the Sermon on the IMountwas what he wanted to hear; when 
the reader came to the Lord's PraytM-, he said it comrortetl him to hear it. These 
words were his last. 

Dr. Channing was born at Newport, Rhode Island, on the :th of April, 1780. 
He died at Bennington, Vermont, on the 2d of October, 1842, 



Lyman Beecher. ' 309 

After Dr. Chaiining' had been preaching- in Boston for about twenty-three years, 
a celebrated Cong regationa list clergyman went up from LitchtieUi, Connecticut, 
and took charg-e of the Hanover Street Church. He had been called there to 
uphold the old orthodox faith, based upon belief in the Trinity, ag'ainst the 
power of the Unitarians, who do not believe in the Trinit\- and had at that 
time grown to be a veiy large body in Boston, exerting- a strong influence far 
beyond the city. This clergymen was Lyiiiaii Beecher. He was an earnest 
and able preacher, with a very clear and logical way of prt^senting the truth, 
which to him was the Congregationalists' form of the Christian I'eligion. He 
was fi\e years older than Dr. Channing, and a man very much honored. 

During- the greater part of this century he and his children have been among 
the most famous and influential men and women in America. Their intellect 
and theii" bencA'olence have been at the service of the greatest reforms of the age. 

Lyman Beecher came into this world only to go out immediately, it was 
thought. AVhen the life of his sick mother passed away, it seemed as if her new- 
born baby would soon follow her; he was so weak and feeble that he seemed 
almost dead, anyway, and in the greater care about his mother, he was pretty 
nearly forgotten. But he li^-ed for more than three score and ten years — and the 
world has been the better for it. 

The little motherless baby was brought up b^^ an uncle and aunt, though he 
lived near his father's home and passed a good deal of his time with him. His 
uncle was a farmer, and Lyman was taught to help about the place, in-doors and 
out; but he never was very g-ood help. He tried to do his best, but he would fall 
to thinking so deeply while he was plowing that he would forget altogether 
what he was about, till his uncle would come up and rouse him by putting- the 
plow back in the furrow and giving his nephew a shake to waken him from his 
day-dreams. Then sometimes when he was not plowing, he would suppose that 
he was and, as he walked along, thinking deeply about other things, he would 
call out " Whoa ! " ''Haw ! " to his imaginary oxen. 

Finally, after things of this kind had happened again and again, his uncle made 
up his mind that " the boy was never meant for a farmer," and that the only way he 
could succeed would be to put him at something whei'e what he called " book knowl- 
edge " would be useful, for Lyman was even then fond of books— fonder of them 
than of oxen and plows. So he asked him if he would like to go to college. Lyman 
said "yes ; " and when he was eighteen years old he was sent to Yale College. 

Soon after he entered it, Timothy Dwight became President of Yale, and he had 
a great influence over the young student. Dr. Beecher always felt that his success 
was due to iho ti-aining- and inspiration he got from Dr. Dwight. 

He was not a brilliant scholar at college. He could not learn mathematics 



310 One Hunched Famous Americans. 

easily, or indeed after he went beyond arithmetic hardly at all ; and as mathemat- 
ics were the test of scholarship in the colle^-e, his standing- was very low. When 
he g-raduated he received no honors from the facnlty, but his classmates had found 
out that, though he was no mathematician, he could talk in such a way that people 
listened to him with delight, and they chose hhn to deliver the valedictory address 
on Presentation day. 

When he had entered college he was undecided as to whether he would be a 
lawj^er or a minister, but during- his course he became more than ever devoted to 
the cause of relig-ion and determined to preach the Gospel. 

His first chui-ch was at East Hampton, Long- Island. He stayed there twelve 
years, and although it was a small place, far away from any important city, he 
made in it a reputation. 

When he was about thirt3"-five years old he took charge of a larger church in 
Litchfleld, Connecticut. There his fame as a preacher and writer increased, but 
it was not till sixteen years later that he moved to Boston and entered upon the 
most important, or at least most noted work of his life. 

The six years that he spent here were devoted to showing that the Unitarians 
were wrong in their doctrines and to persuading people to become or remain 
" orthodox" — that is, within the old Congregationalist Qiurch. Sometimes in his 
arguments he was too heated, and said more against the people who differed from 
him than was best or right, but on the whole he was generous and charitable. 

When the Lane Theological Seminary was established in the West he was 
asked to take charge of it; and, undertaking at the same time to become pastor 
of the Second Presbyterian Church of Cincinnati, he moved to Ohio, in 1832. For 
ten years he was the honored head and the able teacher of theology in this great 
school, whose name will forever be connected with some of the most zealous 
reformers — especially Abolitionists — and most eloquent ministers in the orthodox 
church of America. 

Dr. Beecher was one of the very first movers in the great temperance reform. 
In his earl,y ministry Cliristians and even ministers of the Gospel drank a great 
deal of liquor. Dr. Beecher, seeing how much harm came out of the custom, 
did a great deal to change people's minds about it, and make a public sentiment 
against it. His sermons on temperance have been printed and read far and wide, 
over the world ; besides the vast numbers of copies of them that have been scat- 
tered in this country, they have been translated into several foreig-n languag-es. 

His last seven years were spent entirely out of public life, in a quiet little home 
circle in Brooklyn, New York, near his famous son, Henry Ward Beecher. 

Lyman Beecher was born in Litchfield, Connecticut, October 12, 1775. Hed'.ed 
in Brooklyn, New York, January 10, 1863. 



Henry Ward Beecher. 



311 



For the last fifty years Henry Ward Beecher has probably been the most 
widely known of all American clergymen. 

He was born during- our second war with England, while his father was preach- 
ing the Gospel in Litchfield ; so his life began almost with this century, and, 
growing with his country, he has been prominently connected with almost all the 




Henry Ward Beecher. 



great national events of his time, especially all great reforms. He was one of the 
youngest children of a large family, and was not thought to be as brig'ht or as 
gifted as his brothers and sisters. He had a poor memory and was so sh^^ and 
bashful that for a long time he was called particularly dull. Although he has long 
been one of the most popular preachers and lecturers of this country, when he was 
a boy he had a very indistinct way of speaking in addition to his other drawbacks. 
His parents never thought that there was anything- great in him to reward them 



312 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

for helping" him to overcome his defects, but they were patient with what they 
supposed was his stupidit3% because he was g'ood and obedient. 

In Litchfield, as in all small New England towns at that time, a boj^ had very 
few temptations to get into mischief ; the families were mostly of God-fearing, 
orderly citizens, among- whom a boy coidd hardly find a bad companion. Every- 
body Henr3^ Ward Beecher had an^'thing- to do with was religious ; he heard 
more talk about religious matters than almost anything else, and saw that relig- 
ious principles governed his parents in all things, great and small. 

The family moved to Boston when he was twelve years old, and, soon after | 
this, he became discouraged at his getting on so poorly at school, and made up 
his mind that he would like to go to sea and become a sailor. His father, finding this 
out, talked to him about it. He asked him if he thought he would always be willing 
to remain a common sailor. The bo^^ said no, he wanted to be a commodore. Then 
his father showed him that to become a commodore he would need to understand 
a great deal about mathematics and navigation. But he offered to send him to a 
school where he could learn these things, and told him that when he knew enough 
to be able to take a good position on board a ship that he could probably get him 
one. So, Henry was sent back to school with his mind made up to study harder 
than he had ever done before. It was a school in the country, Avhich he liked 
much better than being in Boston, because he always loved flowers and green 
fields and woods. Here he also had the good fortune to come under the charge of 
one good elocution teacher, who taught him how to use and to cultivate his voice, 
and trained him to speaking well in public. 

At the close of his first year at this school there was a revival of religion in 
the place, and young Beecher became a thorough, earnest Christian. He joined 
his father's church when he went home, and from that time the idea of going to 
sea was given up ; in its place, he began to hope that he might sometime be a 
minister like his father. 

A few years more of hard study so far conquered his natural slowness, that 
he was a fair scholar for his years. He even prepared himself for Amherst Col- 
lege, and got through the four years' course by the time he was twenty-one. He 
did not care much about Greek and Latin, but put most of his energies into study- 
ing oratory and rhetoric, for he had by this time made up his mind that he was 
more interested in what to say and how to say it than in learning and scholarship 
for their own sakes. He read carefully the works of the great English writers, 
Milton, Bacon, Shakespeare, and others from which he could learn how best to use 
the English language. 

Even in college he was a reformer, getting other students to join him in put- 
ting down disorderliness, gambling, drinking, and all other vices. He had a good 



Henry Ward Beecher. 313 

deal of success in this, as he was a popular student ; for while he was very re- 
ligious, he was also full of fun and merriment. It is said that he was so livelj'^ 
and gay that those about him who thought that Christians ought always to be 
very solemn, never understood how really devout he was. 

From Amherst he went to Lane Theological Seminary in Cincinnati, Ohio. 
Here he met and became the intimate friend of Professor C. E, Stowe, who was 
very learned in the Bible and a fine scholar, and who gave the young theological 
student some most valuable help in his studies. They afterwards became brothers- 
in-law, through Professor Stowe's marriage with Mr. Beecher's famous sister, 
Harriet, who wrote " Uncle Tom's Cabin " and many other popular books. 

As soon as Mr. Beecher's theological course was finished, he married and took 
charge of a small church in Lawrenceburg, a little town near Chicinnati. Here 
he not only preached, but did most of the work of the church, even to ringing the 
bell, making the fires, and taking care of the church lamps. 

He was soon called from there to Indianapolis, where he labored for eight years. 
It was in this second place that he began to make his reputation as a preacher. 

Long before he was a minister he had come to see the wrong and cruelty of the 
negro slavery in the Southern States, and not long after he settled in Indianapolis 
he made a great sensation by preaching against it. At that time even Northern 
people did not condemn slaver^^, and for many years there was scarcely anything 
that would make a person more unpopular than to take up the cause of the ne- 
groes. Mr. Beecher knew this perfectlj^, but as long as he felt it was right to use 
his influence toward gaining their rights for them, he was going to do so, though 
it was the cause of many people hating him and trying to do him injur3\ 

After eight years in Indianapolis, he received an important call to come East. 
It was a request that he would take charge of a new little church in Brooklyn, 
New York. He loved the West, and did not want to leave his church there, but 
the health of his familj^ was not good, and he felt that he must make a change ; 
so he accepted the call, and movmg to Brooklyn in 1847, became pastor of Plym- 
outh Church, where he remained till his death, a period of about forty years. 

Altogether this is one of the most remarkable pastorates in all the church his- 
tory of America ; for, beside being one of the most popular and influential men of 
his age, Mr. Beecher's zeal and industry and untiring labors for the good of his 
own people, his country, and all mankind has been more powerful and far-reach- 
ing than the labors of almost any other man in America. There are many people 
who question the real greatness of his work, but no one doubts the extent of it or 
the famous preacher's sincere earnestness and devotion of his purpose. 

His opinions and beliefs have long been considered as not according to the 
doctrines of the Congregationalist Church. He was often condemned for this — 



•^14 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

which is called being- unorthodox — by many people of strict religious views. 
But he acted and spoke according- to what was to him the right way, whether 
differing- from the principles laid down by any sect or not. Moreover, like g-rand 
old Dr. Channing, he was willmg- to treat the honest belief of any other person as 
respectfully as h(i did his own. 

The Council that oi-dained him pastor over Plymouth Church wished that he 
cared more for what they called doctrine ; but as he believed in Christ and in mak- 
ing- people Christians, they encourag-ed him to go on preaching in his own way. 
His way was a very wonderful one, so that his little church was soon overflowing- 
every Sunday' with people who wanted to hear him. 

He had a kindlj^, pleasant face, a fine, manly figure, with a bearing stately 
and dig-nified. His voice was rich and powerful, and he spoke so simply and nat- 
urally that ignorant people and little children understood every word he said as 
clearly as the best educated person in his pews. 

During- the years before the Civil War he used his wonderful oratory both in 
lecturing and preaching- against slavery with great eff"ect ; his voice was contin- 
ually being- raised ag-ainst intemperance, crime, and all sorts of evil, while the 
oppressed and suffering- always found him their friend. He had his enemies, 
but his church people always loved him and were g-rateful to him for the good he 
did them and the nation. All over the world there are many who, though 
the}' knew him only through liis deeds and writings, looked upon him with the 
greatest respect, and used to read his printed sermons every week. 

Henry Ward Beecher was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, January 24, 1813. 
He died in Brooklyn, New York, March 8, 1887. 



PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS. 



THE first disting-iiishetl physician in America was ZabcUel Boylstoii, who 
lived in New England in the old Puritan times when Cotton Mather was in 
his prime. Medicine was hut little understood then, even by the most learned, 
and to plain people it was a deep and mysterious secret. Moreover, men and 
women were so stubbornly set in their own way of thinking- and so suspicious 
of anything- they were not accustomed to that a doctor who made use of an}'- 
new discoveries in his practice often did so at the risk of his life. 

This is why the name of Zabdiel Boylston is g-reat in American history. In 
the face of the bitterest opposition, he succeeded in introducing- here the practice 
of inoculation, to prevent people from taking- small-pox. This remedy is called 
inoculation because a piece of matter taken from a small-pox pimple after the 
patient has ha J the disease for eight days, and inserted — or inoculated — under 
the skill of a well person, will prevent him from taking* the fever by g-iving- him a 
verj^ lig-lit and usually harmless touch of it, which soon passes off and leaves him 
so that even if he is exposed he will not take the i-eg'ular painful and offensive 
fever from which so many people die. This practice, in an improved way, discov- 
ered by Dr. Edward Jenner, of Eug-land, is ver^^ common now, and a g-reat many 
boys and girls know themselves what it is to be vaccinated. But one hundred 
and fifty years ago it was an almost unheard-of thing, believed by most of the 
superstitious people of New England to be connected with evil of some kind. 

D)-. Boylston first heard of inoculation from the clergyman. Dr. Cotton Mather, 
who, being- a great reader, had somewhere seen an account of inoculation being- 
successfully practiced at Smyrna, in Turkey in Asia. When the small-pox broke 
out with great violence in Boston he told the physicians how it had been checked in 
the East. In those days — as in these, too, sometimes — physicians were ver^' 
jealous of their profession, and Avould neither follow the suggestions of any out- 
sider nor give to him any of their knowledge of the healing art. But Dr. Boylston 
was an exception. He had a simple, earnest nature, and was more interested in 



31 G One Hundred Famous Americans. 

curiiii;- his patients than in appearing- important himself. So, he beg-an to think 
over what Dr. Mathei- had said, and lost no time in looking- into the merits of in- 
oenlation. He diseovered that there must be a great deal of virtue in it, and in 
V]'l\ he inoeulated his little six-3'^ear-old son and two servants. In the same year, 
Lad.N' Ma ry Montague, whose son had been saved fi'om having- small-pox by moc- 
ulation in Constantinople, beg-an to try it as an experiment upon some convicts in 
Eng'land. But Dr. Boylston thoug'ht he was working- alone, for he knew nothing- 
of the work of the celebrated Englishwoman. 

His ex|)eriments were successful ; the patients soon g-ot well of the slig-ht sick- 
ness caused by tlie inoculation, and yet they were as nmch secured ag-ainst having- 
tlie small-pox as if they had already had it in the usual way, for this is a disease 
people very i-ai'ely have a second time. Out o[ bigotry and prejudice, the other 
Boston physicians became very bitter against Dr. Boylston. condenuiing- his dis- 
covery and doing- all they could to oppose him. The.>^ so used their influence that 
in the coui'se of the next month they induced the Selectmen of Boston to forbid 
the practice of inoculation. By this time it had been talked about a good deal. 
Six of the clerg-ymen of the city made up their minds that it was a valuable dis- 
covei-y, and that it would save many lives, so they did all they could to chang-e the 
minds of the SeUvtmen, and soon Dr. Boylston Avas allowed to g-o on inocu- 
lating- people. Within a year from this time he inoculated more than two hundred 
and forty [)eo})le. A very few other physicians followed in his footsteps. The 
l)i-actice provetl \(M-y successful. There are records of the diffei'ent cases, showings 
that only about one-seventh as many peo})le died of the inoculat ion as died of small- 
pox taken in the usual way. But this did not in the least alter the opinions of 
tlie physicians who had op})osed the i)ractice before they knew anything- about it. 
They still went on lighting- it more violently than ever. They said so nuich about 
it that ig-norant people came to think that Dr. Boylston must be a wicked-hearted 
man, who wanted to do something- very dreadful to everybod,y. At last they 
became so excited ag-ainst him that it was unsafe foi- him to go out after dark. 
He was threatened with hanging-, and people who let him inoculate them were 
insulted in the streets. But Di-. Mather and other intellig'ent people supported 
him, and so he kept on saving- lives. 

In 1771! ten years after this heroic old physician's death — a better method of in- 
oculation, called vaccination, was discovered in England by Dr. Jenner; and tbat 
proved beyond a doubt the value of the practice. 

For many generations all the g-reat scientists and physicians in the world have 
approved the method for which Dr. Boylston was so persecuted, and honor his 
memory for the help he g-ave to his fellow-creatures, and the wisdom and courag-e 
he showed when so many inlluential uumi of his own profession were doing- all in 



Benjamin Eush. 317 

their power to overcome his efforts. Happily' all his life was not passed in strife 
and opposition. Almost from the first he received the credit abroad that his own 
countrymen withheld, and when he went to England, about four years after 
he began to inoculate, he was warmly welcomed and was made a member of the 
Royal Medical Society. When he came home much prejutUce ag-ainst him had died 
out, and it was generally acknowledged that he was the first physician in America. 




Benjamin Rush. 

When he became too old and infirm to practice, he read and wrote on literary 
and scientific subjects and took an interest in farming. 

Dr. Boylston was born in 1680, at Brookline, Massachusetts, where he died 
March 1, i:6G. 

The name of Benjamin Rush is famous among us for more than one great 
reason. Beside being a remarkable physician, lie was a })atriot, an author, and 
a polished Christian gentleman. He was born near 1 li»> middle of the last century, 



318 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

and was in the prime of his early manhood when the Revokitionary War began. 
His earnestness and zeal were all for the cause of the Colonies, and he lent a strong 
hand to help rouse the people to feeling the need of that war. He was a member 
of the Continental Congress when the Declaration of Independence was drawn up, 
and fixed his name upon it with the other signers. 

Dr. Rush's memory is more closely connected with Philadelphia than with any 
other cit3^ He was born near it and spent most of his useful life in it. Losing 
his father when he was six years old, he was but a little boy when he went to 
live with his mother's brother, Dr. Finley, who was at the head of an academy 
in Maryland. 

His ancestors for generations had been honorable men who held positions of 
trust and respect in the various places where they lived, and his mother spared 
herself nothing to make him worthy of his honorable family. It was to her, he 
felt, that he owed his success in life; for she worked hard and sacrificed much to 
obtain the money for his education. When he was fourteen, thanks to his uncle's 
good teaching, he was able to enter the junior class at Princeton College, where 
Mrs. Rush sent him. He was a very good speaker and debater, and many of his 
friends thought, as he was so eloquent, he ought to be a lawj^er. But he decided to 
be a doctor of medicine, and began studying with the most eminent physicians in 
Philadelphia, soon after he graduated — at the early age of fifteen. These studies 
he kept up for six years, applying himself so diligently that during the whole time 
he only lost two days. After this he went to the medical schools of Edinburgh, 
where his pleasant disposition, bright mind, and industrious habits made him a 
favorite with his teachers. When his old friends among the authorities at Prince- 
ton where trjing to eng-age Dr. Witherspoon to come to America to become pres- 
ident of their college, they chose this young student to negotiate with the famous 
scholar for them ; and it was finally through his efforts that the matter was 
settled and Dr. Witherspoon came. Thej^ became intimate friends during this 
time, and kept up the acquaintance as long as they lived. 

Before he returned to America, young Dr. Rush went to London to attend 
medical lectures, and there he met Dr. Benjamin Franklin, who was very kind to 
him. He advised him to finish his studies among the great French physicians, 
and when he found that he had not the money to do so, he offered to lend it to 
him. The 3'oung man hesitated, but Dr. Franklin urged it upon him, and finally 
he accepted it and went to Paris. From there he came home and began practic- 
ing in Philadelphia. His skill and his kindness, both of which he bestowed alike 
upon all classes of people, rich or poor, were so great that he soon had a very 
large practice, and was highly respected. It was only the next year after his re- 
turn that he was appointed Professor of Chemistry in the new Medical CoUege of 



Samuel Bard, 319 

Philadelphia. This was the first college for the education of physicians ever 
opened in this country, and for a long time this and one soon afterwards estab- 
lished in New York by Dr. Bard, were the only medical schools in America. 

From the time that Dr. Rush came hack to his native country, he was full of 
sympathy with the Colonists in their struggle against the injustices of the English 
king, and he wrote and talked ag'ainst Americans submitting to these wrongs. 

The 3^ear before the war began he was offered a seat in the Continental Con- 
gress, but he declined it. Next year, thoug-h, when the need of patriotic dele- 
gates was greater, he became a member, and was there to sign his name to the 
Declaration of Independence. The following year Congress appointed him physi- 
cian-general to the middle department of the army ; like Washington, he would 
receive no pay for his services, and when the war was over he again took up his 
work in the medical college, becoming more important there than ever before. 
His lectures were so beautifully delivered that they were as entertaining as they 
were instructive, and students flocked from all parts of the country' to hear him. 
He charmed them as a man as well as a teacher, as he did almost every one who 
knew him. He was about the middle height, very erect, slender, with handsome 
aquiline features, and beautiful clear blue eyes, and a manner of the greatest 
gentleness and polish. 

When, in 1793, the yellow fever broke out in Philadelphia, Dr. Rush endeared 
himself to his fellow-citizens even more than ever before b^^ his coui-age and kind- 
ness. He stayed and attended upon the sick when man^^ other physicians left the 
city. He and his pupils had the happiness of being more successful than any one 
else there in fighting this dreadful disease. Up to the last days of his life, Dr. 
Rush was active in his profession and full of interest in all thing's concerning the 
welfare of his country. He died in the fullest trust in the Christian religion, which 
he had always faithfully followed. 

Benjamin Rush was born in Byberry, Pennsylvania, December 24, 1745. He 
died in Philadelphia, April 19, 1813. 

The first medical college in New York City, and the first one in this country 
with a full number of teachers — that is, a complete faculty — was founded through 
the efforts of Saiiiuel Bard. He lived from about the middle of the last cen- 
tury almost through the first quarter of this. When he was four 3^ears old, his 
fathei% who was a Philadelphia i^hysician, moved to New York, and it was in this 
city that Samuel Bard built up his great medical success. His father was an able 
man, an intimate friend of Benjamin Franklin, and with careful oversight his son 
grew up among right-minded companions. 

When he was about fourteen he made a long visit at the house of Cadwallader 



320 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Golden, the Lieutenant-Governor of the province. It was before New York was a 
State. His host's daughter was a young- lady verj^ fond of botany, and of so much 
knowledge in that stud}^ that she was in correspondence with the scientific men in 
Europe about American plants and flowers. Becoming friendly wdth her young 
guest, she soon made him enthusiastically interested in her favorite stud^*. He not 
only learned a great deal while with her, but when his visit ended he carried away 
with him a taste for botanical study that he kept all his life. At fifteen he entered 
Columbia College, where he was never very particularly noted, although he stood 
fairly well in his classes. After he graduated he made up his mind to become a 
physician. This pleased his father, who sent him when he was nineteen to stud}' 
at Edinburgh. This famous city was then thought to have the finest medical 
college. in Great Britain and one of the best in Europe. 

At this time England and France were at war, and the English vessel that 
young Bard sailed in was captured by the French, and taken to one of their ports. 
He was kept a prisoner in France for four months, and might have been held 
longer but for Benjamin Franklin. He was then in London, and when he heard 
of the plight his fellow-countryman was in, he set to work at once to get him 
released. 

As old Dr. Bard was not a rich man, and had. to stint himself to pay for his 
son's advantages, when Samuel wrote to his father after his release, he gave him 
an account of the money he had, and what he had spent. This letter is still pre- 
served, and is most interesting for its quaintness and dutiful spirit as well as for 
its age and interest to all who know anything about the honored author of it. 
He says that his oni^^ extravagance in France was buying a flute to amuse him- 
self with during the long four months in prison ; and he does not seem to have felt 
at all sure that he was right to do even this. 

During all his life. Dr. Bard took a great deal of interest in every branch of 
knowledge. Besides his love for medicine and all that belonged to the progress 
of his profession, he was fond of painting, literature, and science for their own 
sakes. While in Edinburgh he obtained the medal that was given once a year by 
Professor Hope for the best collection of plants. 

After an absence of five years he came back to America with an excellent edu- 
cation and every promise of becoming a leading physician. He married his cousin, 
who had come to live at his home durmg his sta}^ abroad, and whom he had never 
before seen. Then he went into partnership with his father and, saving only 
barely enough money to live on, gave him all he made till all the debts which had 
been contracted to pay for the Edinburgh education had been paid — for it had been 
necessary to borrow considerable money before the young doctor's studies abroad 
were completed. 



Philip Syng Physick. 321 

Meanwhile he began to carry out the great desire of his life, which w^as to 
establish a School of Medicine in New York. He had begun to think about it 
while he was himself a student in Scotland, and as soon as he returned he began 
working to bring it about. He was successful, and in four years after he entei-ed 
his profession he had not onl^' founded the Medical School, which was united to 
King's College (now Columbia), but had it in such good working order that phy- 
sicians were graduated from it. It kept on steadily growing for about five j-ears 
after that, but w^hen the Revolutionary War broke out all its arrangements 
were distm'bed. As Dr. Bard was on the side of the king and not of the patriots, 




Fhilu' Syno Physick. 

in the first of the trouble he took his family to his father's house, out in Dutchess 
County, and during the wiiole of the war he only spent a part of his time practic- 
ing* in the city. There was great sickness in his own family at that time ; four 
of his children died of scarlatina, and after this his wife was very ill indeed. For 
a whole year he did scarcely anything beside taking care of her, until she grew 
well again. 

After the war closed, and he tried to take up his business ag'ain in New York, 
he found very little to do. Most of his friends now differed from him in politics, 
and were very cool to him. Finally, however, he found a few who were more gen- 
erous, and he slowly regained hly practice. He was Washington's family physi- 



332 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

cian while the Presklent of the United States hved in New York, and after awhile 
he once more became an honored and useful citizen. He helped to found the first 
dispensary in the city, and when the College of Physicians and Surgeons was 
opened he was made president of it. 

He and his wife were so fond of each other that they often said they hoped they 
would die tog-ether. They had this wish. Dr. Bard only lived one day after his 
Avife had passed away, and the aged couple were buried in the same grave. 

Dr. Bard was born in Philadelphia, Aprill, 1742. He died in New York City, 
March 24, 1821. 

Because of his wisdom and his energy Philip Syiig Physick has been 
called the Washington of his profession. His father was a man of note and good 
position both before and after the Revolutionary War, and he took unusual pains 
with the education of his son. He engaged a tutor, to whom he offered and paid 
double the price usually given to teachers, because he thought that the best way 
to get good work was to pay liberally for it, and it was not an ordinary man that 
he w^anted to begin the education of his son. After awhile the tutor was exchanged 
for a school in Philadelphia. Philip boarded in the city then, for his father's house 
was some miles out of town. He went home on Saturday night and stayed till 
Monday morning, and though he had to walk all of the long distance, it is said 
that he never went back late for school. So it was at an earl}" age that he showed 
the strong and exact sense of duty which was so marked in him when he became 
a man. ■ 

He graduated at the University of Pennsylvania when he was eighteen years 
old, and at once began to stud}^ medicine. He did not choose this life for himself. 
At that time he did not care for the profession in which he afterwards became 
famous, but as his father wanted him to become a phj^sician, he agreed to do his 
best to please him. The first time he saw a limb taken off he nearly fainted and 
had to be taken out of the hospital. Yet he saw no reason why he should not keep 
faithfully on, so he studied hard and made the most of every chance to fit himself 
thoroughly for his profession. Once, when his teacher spoke to him of Collins' s 
" First Lines of the Practice of Physic " as a book he ought to study very care- 
fully, the young student committed the whole book to memory, word for word, 
from beginning to end. He attended Dr. Rush's lectures among others in Phila- 
delphia, and when he had finished the course and was ready to graduate, he felt 
that he was not yet prepared to begin the actual practice of medicine, so he 
refused to take his degree when it was offei-ed him, but went to London to continue 
his studies under the great English surgeon, John Hunter. 

His new teacher was much pleased with him, and obtained for him, before 



Samuel Latham Mitchell. 323 

long-, the position of house surgeon to St. George's Hospital, Later, when Dr. 
Physick was preparing to return to America, Dr. Hunter tried very hard to per- 
suade him to remain in England. But after staying away for five years, he was 
still determined to make his home in America. One last year he spent in Edin- 
burgh, and then with the degree of Doctor of Medicine from the greatest of medi- 
cal colleges, retui'ned to Philadelphia in the fall of 1792. 

He had a hard time for three years after his return ; he was not a man who 
was liked by everybody ; he had a distant, dignified manner, and was intimate 
with no one. His ability was then unknown, and during these first three years he 
got almost no practice, after all the faithfulness and care he had given to preparing 
himself to do his work well. Probably the disappointment of this time made him 
rather bitter in feeling, for he was known the rest of his life as a somewhat melan- 
choly and unsocial man. When the yellow fever broke out the ye^v after his re- 
turn, he showed how good and brave he was in the face of danger, but it was not 
till the second epidemic of this dreadful disease came, five years later, that his fel- 
low-townsmen began to generally appreciate him. He was so helpfid and kind to 
the sick then, the poor as well as the rich, that after the terrible time was over he 
received a number of valuable pieces of silver plate from the managers of two hos- 
pitals as a testimony of their gratitude for his self-sacrilicing services. Soon after 
this he began to lecture on surgery, and for twent;y-five years from that time he 
stood at the head of that branch of his profession in Philadelphia, and it was be- 
lieved that there was not a better surgeon than he in this country. 

He was a peculiarly clear and simple lecturer, so that the dullest students 
could understand him ; in the lecture-room, as in all other places, his manner was 
very dignified. He was tall, thin, and boyish looking, held himself very erect, 
wore his hair in queue, and spoke in slow and measured tones with his patients. 
He was always courteous and he could be very sympathetic, but he could also 
be stern, and often refused to treat people who did not mind his directions and 
take their medicine regularl^^ When his patients disobeyed him he left them to 
get well as best they could. 

He received many honors in this country and from foreign societies. Except- 
ing his lectures, he wrote but little ; he led too busy a life to become an author. 

Doctor Physick was born July 7, 17G8, in Philadelphia, where he also died, De- 
cember 15, 1837. 

Samuel Ijatliain Mitchell, one of the great physicians and naturalists of 
the early days of this republic, brought honor upon his country in many ways. 
He was born into a Quaker family of Long Island, when this country was in the 
midst of the troubles that finally led to the Revolutionary War. His uncle. Dr. 



324 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Samuel Latham — for whom he was named — was always very fond of him ; even 
when he was a little boy he thought he would make a name in the world some- 
time, he was so bright and quick to notice things about him. So, the good doctor 
took charge of his nephew's education, often teaching him himself. Under this 
good and loving influence it was very natural that, when Samuel became a young 
man, he decided to become a physician. He had an excellent start. At the age 
of sixteen he began studying medicine under the celebrated Dr. Samuel Bard, of 
New York, and after three years he started for Edinburgh. 

He left this great university with the highest honors, and so much fame as a 
student that it reached America before him. The most intellectual and learned 
men in New York received him with marked attentions when he came home, and 
after one year spent in studying the laws and constitution of his countr}^, he began 
to practice medicine and to make those investigations in natural sciences which 
were his most valuable work. When he was twenty-six years old he was elected 
to the Legislature of the State of New York, and two years later was appointed 
professor in Columbia College, Even then, young as he was, he was considered 
the best naturalist and practical chemist in America. 

He soon began to publish the Medical Repository, and he remained its chief 
editor for sixteen years. He founded and was for a long time president of the 
New York Lyceum of Natural History, and was interested in everything connected 
with the public good. All sorts of people came to him for advice and help^ espe- 
cially when they had some new idea or invention that they wanted to bring before 
the world. He encouraged Robert Fulton in his plan for making a steamboat, 
when nearly everybody was laughing at him and saying such a thing could not be 
done ; and finally, when the steamboat was built, he went with Fulton on its first 
trip. He was also especially interested in agriculture, and in the midst of his 
busy labors in his own profession, he found time to write useful and helpful papers 
about farming and the best ways to cultivate different crops. 

The scientific work he did attracted great attention in Europe, and such men 
as Sir Humphrey Davy and Baron Cuvier said they learned much from what he 
wrote. His elaborate account of the fish found in the waters about and near New 
York was one of the things that advanced his reputation in Europe, and in geology 
he led the way before all who have since done their great work in this country. 
For twenty years Dr. Mitchell was one of the j)hysicians of the New York Hos- 
pital. His political experience in his early manliood in the New York Legislature 
was afterwards followed by an acquaintance with Congress, where he i-epresented 
New York City for six years without a break. After that he became a United 
States Senator. In the later years of his life he was Professor of Materia Medica 
and Botany in the New York College of Physicians and Surgeons, where he won 



Valentine Mott. 325 

the reg-ard of all by his kindly, friendly manners ; and the closest attention of the 
students to his lectures, for he was an unusually entertaining- speaker, even on 
deep and very " dry " subjects. 

Samuel Latham Mitchell was born at North Hempstead, Long Island, on 
Aug'ust 20, 1764, and died in New York City on September 7, 1831. 

One of the boldest and most successful surgeons of any age or countrj' was 
Valentine Mott. He was born on Long- Island soon after the close of the 
Revolutionary^ War, and his life history has been closely connected with the prog- 
ress of surgery in New York City, where his father before him was a physician 
for many yeai'S. When Valentine was nineteen lie entered Columbia College, and 
after graduating there from a course in medicine, he followed the example of most 
of the ambitious students of his day, and went to London and Edinburgh to finish 
his training-. 

In the early part of this century it Avas a crime that the law punished by im- 
prisonment for any one to be found with the limb of a dead man ; people were so 
ignoi-ant that they called dissection a fearful and a wickad practice, although it is 
tlie only w^y that a thorough knowledge of the human body can be obtained. 
Dr. Mott fully realized its importance. Knowing that no one could become a 
skillful surgeon without it, he risked life and good name to smuggle bodies into 
the hospital so that he and the other students might work over them and learn 
how best to relieve the suffering-s of the living. 

Nowadays dissection is a reg-ular part of every medical student's preparation 
for his profession, and is so well understood as a great necessity that there is no 
need of its being done in secret. Much of this chang-e of feeling is due to Dr. 
Mott, who had the courage and zeal to push his way ag-ainst difficulties, and the 
ability to prove by his own wonderful operations the value of knowing- from actual 
sight the secrets of the human body. From the very first, he began to take 
great steps forward in the surg-eon's art. He worked hard and faithfully ; the 
new operations and discoveries of the eminent European doctors of his time were 
carefully studied, and before long- some of them were undertaken by himself ; suc- 
cessful in these, he went on with new methods of his own, most of which have 
proved to be of everlasting benefit to mankind. 

He was also the first to introduce in this country what is called clinical in- 
struction—that is, giving lectures at the bedside of the patient or performing 
operations before students and explaining what is done to them. In this he 
opened another great avenue of instruction to medical students of America, where 
the profession is now becoming of importance before the whole world, while in Dr. 
Mott's youth its standing was very low. 



326 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

At that time, if a man wore aiming- to become a good surg-eon, it was necessary 
for him to g"o abroad to study, for there were no oj^portunities for him to 
learn his art in this country. In London, which was one of the best places in the 
world for such study, and in Edinburgh, Dr. Mott worked so faithfully and suc- 
cessfully that as soon as he returned to America he was asked to become Professor 
of Surgery in Columbia College. 

From that time on, throug-hout his long life, he was one of the best medical 
lecturers in New York. His students always found him entertaining as well as 
instructive, and while they respected him and admired him for the g-reat learning- 
and ability he possessed, they w^ere also very fond of him as a man. He had a 
rare nature, made up of old-fashioned dig-nit^^ combined with easy, kindly good 
humor. Being* of fine figure and bearing, handsome face, and extreme neatness 
in his dress, he was also a man whose looks were always pleasing. As a surgeon, 
he was both daring- and cautious ; he would undertake bravely whatever seemed 
best to be done, but he was always anxious to do no cutting- that was not abso- 
lutely necessary. He performed most of his operations before it was discovered 
that ether and chloroform will deaden the senses. Then, when the patient had to 
endure terrible suffering under an operation, it was much more difficult for a 
surgeon to work than now ; but Dr. Mott was always quiet and self-possessed, 
and always treated his pupils or assistants with the same politeness that he 
showed on all ordinary occasions. Some of the g-reat surg-ical operations that are 
now commonly made were first thoug-ht of and undertaken by him. A celebrated 
English surgeon said : " Dr. Valentine Mott has performed more of the g-reat op- 
erations than any man living-, or that ever did live." 

One of the most marked traits of his character was promptness. He was 
always on time. His students used to say that they could set their watches by 
Dr. Mott's bow before the class. 

Beside his long- and honorable connection with the Medical School at Columbia 
College, which began when he was about thirt^^-five years old, he was one of the 
founders of Rutg-ers Medical College, at the university in New Brunswick, New 
Jersey, and was also a professor of two departments in the Colleg-e of Physicians 
and Surgeons in New York Cit3\ 

During the Civil War Dr. Mott was ardently devoted to the Union, and 
served the Government in working- for the g-ood of the soldiers. His family 
thought that his death was hastened by the shock he suffered in hearing- of Presi- 
dent Lincoln's assassination. 

Dr. Mott was born at Glen Cove, Long Island, on August 20, 1785. He died in 
New York City, AprU 26, 1865. 



John Wakefield Francis. 327 

The life of John Wakefield Francis covered a period almost as long- as 
that of our nation. It began in the first year that Washing-ton was President, 
and only closed just before the beginning of the Civil War. His father was a 
German, and his mother was the daughter of a Swiss family. They lived in New 
York Cit}^, and began to give their son a good education. The father died before 
John was grown, and, feeling it to be his duty to earn something to support him- 
self and help his widowed mother, he bound himself out to a printer. But in a 
short time circumstances changed so that he could go on with his studies. For 
a time he was at school — with Washington Irving — and afterwards he went to 
Columbia College, where he took the regular course and graduated. Meanwhile 
he had taken up medicine by himself, and when out of Columbia began to attend 
the College of Physicians and Surgeons, where he received the degree of Doctor 
of Medicine, three years later. 

This was in the year 1812, and it was the first degree ever given by that school. 
Young Francis had shown so much ability and industry while he was studying, 
that, as soon as he began to practice, the way opened to success. He was taken 
into partnership by a physician of good standing and established position, and 
soon proved himself a great man in his profession. When he was only twenty- 
four 3^ears old he was appointed to lecture at the College of Physicians and 
Surgeons, and soon after became a professor there, when the medical department 
of Columbia was united with that college. 

He was always full of sympathy for young men trying to get an education, 
and for some of the lectures that he delivered at the College of Physicians and 
Surgeons he would take no fees, lest some students would have to miss them 
because of the expense. His devotion to his profession and sincere desire to ad- 
vance in it was unlimited. Five years after he graduated in medicine, and after 
he had filled these responsible positions as teacher, he went to Europe to push 
his own studies still further. When he returned the College of Physicians and 
Surgeons offered him a still more important professorship than he had held before, 
which he filled with ever-growing ability and great popularity among faculty 
and students. When he was about forty years old, he gave up lecturing and 
school-work so as to be able to devote his time to treating the sick and to writ- 
ing. For two years he edited the New York Medical and Physical Journal. 

While Dr. Francis was deeply occupied by the great healing art he was 
also a helper in many good works outside of his profession. Besides being a use- 
ful friend to the Woman's Hospital and the State asylum for drunkards, he was 
an active member of the New York Historical Society, was very much interested 
hi the progress of the study of Natural History, and lent a strong hand to many 
other movements not nearly so closely connected with his profession. In his 



328 One Hundred Famous Amerieans. 

leisure pictures and reading- guve him a g-reat deal of pleasure. Nearl.y all the 
literary and scientific institutions of New York have been benefited by his aid 
and interest. He was one of the founders of the Academy- of Medicine, of which 
he becnnu' pi-esident about fifteen years before his death. 

He Avas a maker of books as well as a lovei* of them, and beside nrany valuable 
articles on medicine that came from his pen — appearing- in his own and other 
journals — he wrote several important books for the profession and a volume for 
oth(M- readers, on " Old New York ; or, Reminiscences of the Past Sixty Years." 

Dr. Francis was born November 17, 1T81», in New York Cit^-, where he also died, 
February 8, 1861. 

Tlieodoric Roiiieyii Beck, who was marked 'by diligence, intellect, and 
g'oodness as one of the most prominent American physicians, was also one of the 
greatest medical writers of this century. It has been said by some one who knew 
him well that he never wasted a minute, and this must be true, else he never could 
have accomplished so much valuable writing while his daily life was taken up by 
teaching and lecturing. 

Dr. Beck was born in the early days of the Republic, when people were just 
getting" over the effects of the Revolutionary War, and were beginning to make 
money, to re-establish their schools and colleges, and to realize what a greati 
countiy this was going to be. It was a time of great oppoi'tmiities. Dr. Beck 
was worthy of his age, and did much to advance his fellow-countrymen in a 
knowledge of agriculture, manufactures, and other useful arts and sciences, while 
he is best known as an able Avriter on medical jurisprudence. 

When he was very young, his mother was left a widow with four little sons, 
whom she resolved to educate at any sacrifice to herself. In after years, when 
they had all become men and were growing fauums in honorable positions, they said 
that they owed their success to her worlc and her training and intluence. Tlieo- 
doric, or Romoyn, as he was called, who became the most noted man of the family, 
lirst attended the public-school, and then went to Union College in his native place, 
Schenectady, New York. When he was sixteen years old he gradiuited there and 
went to study medicine, first in Albany and afterwards in New York. As soon as 
he was throug-li he went back to the State capital and began to practice, and even 
before he was twent3'-one years old became a marked man in the citA', both as a 
physician and a citizen. In a few years he was appointed principal of the Albany 
Acaden\y, and he then gave up practicing medicine, although he did not go out of 
the profession. He could not endure seeing people sulfer, as a practicing doctor 
must, so he undertook another business for regular work, and g'ave his leisure 
from that to the theoretical side of medicine. 



Jolni Broadhead Beck. 329 

From that timo to tho close of his loiii::, busy life ho dovo'tod himself to tonch- 
iiiiT, studyiii.i;-, and writin^i;-. He held many honorable posilioihs, among- which were 
the professorship in the Fairfield and the Albany Medical Colleges, and the pres- 
idency of New York State Medical Society. His large work on " Medical Jnris- 
prudence " is one of great importance. It attracted a good deal of attention in 
Knrope as well as here, and was translated into many languages. During- the 
last few years of his life he resigned from the Albany Medical College, and gave 
all his failing strength to his wi'iting-. In the scientific and literary magazines of 
that day he published many very valuable articles. 

His death was felt to be a public calamit>'. In this country and abroad he was 
mourned by the many learned societies of which he had been an honored and use- 
ful member. Those who knew him best g-rieved for the loss of a g-reat and g-ood 
man. • 

Theodoric Romeyn Beck was born in Schenectady, New York, on Aug-ust 11, 
1791 ; he died in Utica, New York, November 19, 1855. 

John Broadhead Beck, famous as a practicing physician, was a .younger 
brother of Dr. T. Romeyn Beck, and rose to almost an equal eminence. He was 
four years old when his father died, and he was soon sent to live with his uncle, 
who about this time moved to New York City. This luicle became a prominent 
trustee of Columbia College, and when his nephew was (ifteen he was sent there to 
school. Young Beck graduated four years later with the highest honors of his 
class. He then went to Europe and was for awhile much interest<^d in the study 
of languages, especially in Hebrew. He became so learned in ancient tongues 
that he could easily read and study the Bible in the original — the Old Testament 
in Hebrew and the New Testament in Greek. 

Deciding- to become a physician, after his return to America, he entered the 
College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York, from which he graduated when 
he was twenty-three. The paper on " Infanticide,'' whicli he read at the com- 
mencement, has ever since remained a standard authority on that subject, 
although it was written seventy-tive .years ago. Aftei- he had been successfully 
practicing- for some time, he established in New York an important medical mag-- 
azine called the Medical and Fliysical Journal, and or seven years he was its 
chief editor. The next important step that the public saw Dr. Beck take was uito 
the chairs of materia medica and botan^y before the students in the College of Phy- 
sicians and Surgeons. His influence here was most valuable, and man.y of the 
best years of his life were spent in battling for the coUeg-e and its advancement in- 
many Avays. When, later, he was given a position at the New York Hospital the 
whole profession was beneiited ; for he wrote exc«11ent papers about cases he had 



330 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

at the hospital. They were on subjects that no one else took up in the journals 
and which he could not have Avritten without practical expeiience. 

He was interested in starting- the Ncav York Academy of Medicine, and Avas a 
leader in all movements and societies intended to benefit his profession. 

For several years before his death, Dr. Beck's health was very poor, but in spite 
of pain he worked on for many months, his mind as clear and sound as ever, and 
his nature tilled with the grace of the Christian religion, in which he fully believed. 

Dr. John B. Beck was born in Schenectady, New York, September 18, .1794. 
He died in Rhinebeck, New York, April 9, 1851. 

The greatest ethnologist of this country was Samuel George Morton, 
also celebrated as a physician and naturalist. An ethnologist is a person who has 
studied about the races of men, and Dr. Morton's branch of this science was on the 
first people of America. 

He was a student from the time he Avas a little boy, and his father, who was an 
Ii'ish merchant in Philadelphia, wished him to become a bushiess man like himself, 
but the lad did not like business and wanted to enter one of the professions. Be- 
longing to the Friends, who have no ministers and do not believe it is right to go 
to law, he could not be either a lawyer or a preacher, so he made up his mind to 
be a phj^sician. His father sent him to the University of Pennsylvania when he 
was seventeen years old, and to Edinburgh as soon as he graduated. In the sum- 
mer of his twenty-fifth year the medical degree of the great Scotch University was 
conferred upon him, and he returned to Philadelphia, He did not begin to practice 
until about two j^ears after coming home ; but as soon as he did enter the doctors' 
ranks, he took his place at once as a physician and scientist of high rank. In 
a short time he became a prominent member of the Academy of Natiu-al Sciences, 
and one of the writers for the journal it published. Throughout the rest of his life 
he wrote many valuable articles for that magazine and the other leading scientific 
journals of this country. 

In the course of his studies. Dr. Morton became very much interested in learn- 
ing about the races of men from their skulls, and he then turned a great deal 
of his attention to the people who lived in this country long before it was discov- 
ered hy Columbus. By collecting and carefully studying the skulls of these first 
Americans, or aborigines — some races of which had died out before the first white 
man ever landed here — he found out raan,y things that seem to show what sort of 
people they were. This study, wliich is called ethnology, is a branch of science that 
is only taken up by tlie most careful and studious scholars. It stands very high 
among learned men, and Dr. Morton soon became known as one of its most 
lliorough investigators in an^^ part of the world. 



Horace Wells. 331 

When he first beg'an to lecture upon the different shapes of the skull in the five 
gTcat races of men, he could not get enough skulls to illustrate what he said, so he 
then hegan to make a collection of them himself, and in time this became the 
largest private cabinet of crania — as they are called by scientists — in the world, 
and was celebrated far and wide. His books on this subject are among- the most 
jimportant that have been published, and are doubl^^ valuable that they are writ- 
ten in a modest, impartial spirit, showing- that the author was truly devoted to 
his science and not to making himself noted. 

During- many years Dr. Morton stood among- the very greatest scientists in 
the world. His writings, both in books and magazines, covered man^^ exceedingly 
imiiortant subjects and were full of new and valuable information upon natural 
history, geology, and other sciences not closely connected with medicine, while his 
works on chemistry, anatomy, and other subjects belonging- to his profession 
were among the g-i'eatest of his time. 

Dr. Samuel G. Morton was born on the 26th of Januarj^, 1T99, m Philadelphia, 
where he died. May IS, 1851. 

Some twenty-five years ag'o there were probabl^^ no members of the medical 
profession better known by name than Horace Wells, William Morton, and Charles 
Thomas Jackson, each of whom claimed to have been the first person to discover 
anifisthetics — that is, to have found out that b,y breathing oi' inhaling- certain 
gases the senses will for a time become dull to pain and to the knowledge of 
everything- taking place before them. It was the greatest discovery for human 
comfort that has ever been made, for until about the year 1846 no one knew of 
anything- that would lessen the sense of bodily suffei'ing to any extent without 
running- the risk of taking- the patient's life, or injuring his mind forever. When 
people met with terrible accidents or had to undergo any operation, such as having 
legs or arms cut off or cancers cut out, there was nothing- known that could ease 
their agony or make them unconscious of all that was taking place. Several 
things had been tried, but for the most part they did more harm than good, 
so physicians and surgeons did not attempt to use them at all. But, meanwhile, 
mau}^ were trying- to discover something- that would produce unconsciousness 
without doing harm, and finally the secret was found in three different bodies, by 
three different men at about the same time. But thej'^ or their friends would not 
tell you about it in this way. They would say that only one found the g-reat secret, 
and that both the others were impostors. It would make no difference which one 
you had asked ; each one claimed for liimself the full credit of the g-reat discov- 
evy, and maintained that both the others were trying- to defraud him of his rig-hts. 
tt is probable that they had all been working- for it in a careful, scientific waj'. 



332 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

and that they all came upon what they sought at about the same time. Other 
great discoveries have been made in this way, and it is well known that in many 
cases several minds, when working- entirely away from one another, and often un- 
known to each other, have brought forth much the same ideas at about the 
same time. 

Whether the secret of anaesthetics was first revealed to each of the three 
claimants or only to one of them, will probably never be decided ; but certain it is 
the world is indebted tc them all for the Avonderf ul blessing that a knowledge of it 
has spread through the human race It became known in about the j^ear 1845. 
When, in national affairs, the Tyler administration was drawing to a close and 
that of Polk was beginning; when the whole nation was disturbed about the annex- 
ation of Texas ; when the war-cloud of the Mexican conflict was gathering over the 
land, and the North and South were becoming bitter enemies over the slavery 
question ; when Morse's telegraph was just being brought into use, and Fremont 
was opening up the far West, a new era in medicine was daAvning in New England 
that soon lit up the whole of the civilized world, extending far beyond professional 
limits to all beings that can feel and suffer. " The deepest furrow in the knotted brow 
of agony has been smoothed forever," wrote our physician-poet, Oliver Wendell 
Holmes. Yet, great as it was, like all Avonderful discoveries, its merits were not 
generall}^ admitted at first. As there are always opposers to everj^ new thing and 
mean, jealous people in every profession who would even rather that the world 
should go without a great benefit than that an^" but they themselves should intro- 
duce it, so it was with the discovery of antesthetics. Some chemists and phj^si- 
cians even wa^ote letters and made speeclies against using it, but its value was too 
clear for them to have much influence, and the only great struggle about it was 
between the discoverers themselves. 

The governments and learned scientific societies of the world were eager to 
honor the finder of the wonderful secret — but to whom were their awards due ? 
Three men claimed the merit, each bringing plenty of good proof that his right 
alone was the true one. Instead of "in honor preferring one another," or even 
allowing that possibly their claims were equal, they opened war against each 
other. Sides were taken by surgeons, ph^^sicians, scientists, and personal friends 
throughout the world, and the controversy became one of the bitterest ever known 
in the medical profession. The matter has never been decided wholly for any one 
of them ; generally, the discovery is looked upon as a joint one, for which humanity 
is deeply indebted to three New England doctors, for if it were not actually dis- 
covered b3' them all, it has certainly been made knowm to the world b^^ the 
efforts of all of them. 

Many of the fairest judges say that if the long-contested honor belonged to any 



Horace Wells. 



333 



one more than another, it was to Horace Wells, a dentist of Hartford, Vermont. 
His claims have been acknowledged both in Europe and America, and the French 
Academy honored him with its degree of Doctor of Medicine. 

Dr. Wells was an uncommonly restless man, always active in mind and body, 
intelligent, fond of machinery, and in his own town he was well known as an in- 



/* 




/ 









Horace Wells. 



4 



ventor before he had any great fame in dentistry. Many of his machines were 
patented and were of dt>cided value. 

Before there was a college of dentistry in Boston, he had gone to the great New 
England city from his lovely native town on the banks of the Connecticut, and 
there obtained the best education possible to fit hnnself as a dental sm-geon. Re- 
turning to Hartford, he opened an office. He was ver^^ able and intelligent ; he 
invented and made most of his own instruments, and before long took rank among 
the most skillful dentists in the town. One of his inventions was a new solder for 



334 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

fastening: false teotli upon the plate; and with it he and Dr. W. T, G. Morton— 
who had been his fellow-student, was now his warm friend, but in after vears be- 
came his bitter enemy — resolved to g-o into partnership and open an office in Bos- 
ton. They called on Dr. Charles T. Jackson, then a great chemist, who for a 
g-ood sum in payment certified to the value and jnirity of the solder, which was a 
vast improvement over the bad-smelling- and ill-tasting- stuff then in common 
use. 

The firm of Wells & Morton did not succeed, and the connection was soon 
broken. But this was only done because their business did not pay ; they separated 
the best of friends. Dr. Morton remained in Boston, and Dr. Wells went back to 
Hartford. Here lie continued his practice and kept up his scientific studies for 
some time. It was about ten years after he had beg'un to study dentisti-y that he 
suddenly felt that teeth could be taken out without g-iving" pain if the patient were 
put under the influence of niti'ous oxide g-as. He looked into the matter thor- 
oughly, and requested his friend Dr. Rig'g's to try the experiment upon himself — 
that is, upon Dr. Wells. A larg-e, sound tooth was taken out, from which the 
doctor felt scarcely any pain : the great secret of anaesthetics was discovered. 
This was on the 11th of December, 1844, and from that time the g-as was used 
with success by Dr. Wells and several other dentists of Hartford. About two 
years later, Dr. Morton made it known that sulphuric ether could be used in 
much the same way, and Dr. Jackson, with his chloroform dissolved in alcohol, 
opened the bitter contest about to whom belong-s the honor of having- first dis- 
covered a means of deadening the senses to pain. So, as some one has said, the 
discovery, which was of untold value to the world, became a cup of unming-led 
woe and sorrow to the discoverer and his afflicted family. And as this was 
true of one, so was it also true of all the claimants. 

Dr. Wells's health became poor soon after these events, and he had to give up 
his business for awhile. Going- to Europe, he visited the great physicians, col- 
leges, and hospitals abroad, learning a great deal about his profession, regaining 
his heal til, and payitig his expenses by selling pictures which he imported for that 
pui'pose. 

He also amused himself during part of this time by lecturing on birds, for he 
was educated in natural history and loved the feathered friends of the woods. He 
was fond of all Nature's works ; he had been born and brought up on a lovely, ro- 
mantic farm on the Connecticut River, and no trouble or expense had been spared 
on his early education. His parents, who were wealthy people for that region, 
had fine minds and took a great deal of pains to give their children good training 
in morals and in mind. Horace had grown up handsome, active, and generous, 
showing the traits when he was a bov that marked him as a man. He had gone 



William Thomas Gr^een Morton. 335 

to good schools, <ind when his father died before his education was quite finished, 
he had made hiu own way by teaching- in one district school and many winting-- 
schools. While at one of the academies, before he was out of his teens, he united 
with the church/and as he grew up to manhood he thought seriously of becoming 
a minister ; but at the age of nineteen he went to Boston to study dentistry instead. 
He honored religion as a layman, for his life was always that of a true Christian ; 
he was respected for his great purity of character, for his generous impulses, 
and for his kindness and love to all closely connected with him. 

The people who passed handsome Dr. Wells on the street saw only a man of 
medium height, with a good figure, large head, and light skin, walking along with 
his eyes cast down and his face in thoughtful lines ; but when the}^ stopped to 
speak to him, there was a bright, pleasant change in his looks ; he spoke in an an- 
imated, cheerful voice, and showed a kindty, cordial manner that made him very 
attractive. He had such refined and sensitive feelings that he did not go much 
among people he was not well acquainted with, though he was a good friend and 
always a worthy citizen. 

After his return from Europe, he went to New York, to mtroduce the use of 
ana?sthetics into the hospitals. All the discoveries were then new, and being very 
anxious to use the best and safest of them, he made a great man}' trials of the 
properties of each. At last he was convinced that chloroform was a better agent 
than either nitrous oxide gas — his own discovery — or ether — the discover^'^ of Dr. 
Morton — and he began experimenting with it upon himself. It is a dangerous, 
deadly drug, and, even in Dr. Wells's skillful hands, did serious mischief. Not 
knowing the full extent of its poAver, he used it too much until his mind was 
affected and finally upset b^^ it, and, one day— before he had been in New York a 
month — it was found that in an attack of insanit}' he had taken his own life — that 
noble, upright, gifted life, which had only reached its thirty-third 3'ear a few 
days before. 

Dr. Horace Wells was born in Hartford, Vermont, January 21, 1815. He died 
in New York City, January 24, 1848. 

While William Thomas Green Morton cannot have the full honor of 
having discovered anaesthetics, to him certainly belongs the distinction of having 
found out that sulphuric ether could be put to that use, and of having done more 
than any one else, or all others, to make known the great secret of how to deaden 
the feelings to pain to all classes of people, in both the Old World and the New. 

Dr. Morton was a New England man, and, like Dr. Wells, a dentist. He was 
born just as this century was passing into the midsummer of its first score of 
years. 



336 One Hundi'ed Famous Americans. 

When it came time for him to go to school he began at the town academy, for 
which Dr. Morton's father — who had been deprived of much education himself — 
secured a much better teacher than New England villages usually had at that time. 
When William was thirteen years of age it was thought that he was old enough 
to be sent from home to attend some noted academy. The first year he was away 
he lived in the family of a physician and had not been there long before he felt his 
old desire to study medicine return. Nearly all the leisure time he had during that 
term was spent in the doctor's study, poring over medical books. 

On his next visit home he told his father and mother that he had made up his 
mind to become a physician, and they were well pleased. But by the time he was 
about seventeen years old his father failed in business, and he had to leave school 
and go with Mr. Morton to Boston, where he was employed in a large publishing 
house. The busy life of the bookselling business gave him no time for study and 
reading, and he soon became discouraged and returned home. From that time 
until he was of age, he worked only to gain money enough to study, and was 
almost a complete failure in business. 

When he was twenty-one — that is, in the year 1840 — he went to Baltimore, 
where the first College of Dental Surgery was founded by the newly-formed 
American Society of Dental Surgeons. 

Dentistry was at that time a barbarous practice, almost without either art or 
skill at its command, and there was a very decided movement in the country to 
improve it. For a long time some of the most prominent dentists in the country 
had been tr^dng to organize this society, but it was not fully formed until midsum- 
mer in 1840, the very month in which William Morton became of age. Its object 
was to " give character and respectability to the profession, diffuse a knowledge 
of dental theory and practice, but above all to establish dental colleges through- 
out the United States, for the proper instruction of those who might wish to 
enter upon this career." 

At that time the great desire of young Morton's life was to become a physi- 
cian ; but as that was impossible to him, and the Dental Society offered an open- 
ing to a profession that he considered next best to that of medicine, he resolved to 
make the most of the chance. 

After a year and a half of diligent study, part of the time in Baltimore and 
part of the time at the North, he received his diploma and was ready to practice. 
Settling in Boston, he began business in the short and unsuccessful partnership 
with Dr. Horace Wells, but after that he went along more prosperously by him- 
self. He began to find out and adopt better ways of doing things than most den- 
tists then employed, and resolved to devote himself to improving the methods of 
the profession. After making several fruitless efforts to get on visiting terms at 



William Thomas Gfeen Iforton. 33T 

the offices of other dentists, he finally paid five hundred dollars to Dr. Keep— who 
had a high standmg- at that time — for free access to him and his laboratory at all 
times and liberty to make his own use of all he learned there. At the same time 
he collected a cabinet of specimens, and perfected the appliances in his rooms, so 
that before long- his was the best- fitted dentist's office in the city. 

Some of the improvements that he soon brought out were of decided impor- 
tance, and encouraged him to go on. He was particularly anxious to find some 
way of painlessly taking out the roots of old teeth— which were too often left in 
those days of bungling dentistry to ache and to give foul smells and unpleasant 
taste to the mouth. He tried stimulants even to making the person intoxicated, 
and used opium and magnetism, but none would serve the purpose. Then he re- 
solved to study and experiment till he should find the right thing. He had not 
gone far in this search before he found himself ver^^ much limited by knowing almost 
nothing about medicine. So, two years after he graduated from the dental col- 
lege, and in the midst of quite a good practice, he beceme a medical student in the 
office of a physician and began to attend lectures at the Medical College m 
Boston. 

One of the things he learned at that time was that sulphuric ether can, without 
harm, be breathed in small quantities. It was to him a most important piece of 
information, and he began at once to experiment with it upon himself. After 
making sure about its safety, he used it on a man, and found with joy that the 
patient remained perfectly unconscious and felt no pain wiiile the doctor took out 
the root of a large, firm, double-pronged tooth. This was September 30, 1846 ; 
afterward he make other successful trials of the same thing, and finally sent an 
account of them to Dr. John C. Warren, a professor of the medical college, and 
one of the greatest Boston surgeons of his day. Dr. Warren requested Dentist 
Morton to make his administration of ether on a patient at the Massachusetts 
general hospital, from whose jaw a tumor was to be taken by a most painful op- 
eration. The man remained perfectly unconscious until after the surgery was all 
done. 

Although there was no question about the value of Dr. Morton's discovery, it 
met with bitter opposition throughout the country, among botli physicians, den- 
tists, and other surgeons. He obtained a patent for it under the name of 
" Etheon," in the United States and in England, in Avhicli he offered free rights to 
all charitable institutions in all parts of the coiuiti'y. But the Government and 
many private institutions appropriated its use without paying any attention to the 
patent, and in many ways Dr. Morton's discovery became an affiiction to himself 
and his family, wdiile it was of untold benefit to others. A bitter war of opposi- 
tion began at once between him and Dr. Jackson, wiio claimed tliat his discovery 



338 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

of the ancesthetical influence of chloroform and also of ether were made before Dr. 
Morton's. He refused to receive his share of the joint award of the French Acad- 
emy, although in 1852 — some j^ears after— he received the larg-e gold medal, the 
Monyton prize in medicine and surgery. By indomitable will and the encour- 
agement of his friends, he maintained his claim in spite of all the troubles that 
came on him for doing so, the greatest of which Avere a broken business and large 
debts, so that even his home was attached by the sheriff. His first appeal to 
Congress for justice upon his patent right was not noticed, his second secured the 
appointment of a committee of ph3'sicians, who reported that he was entitled to 
the merit of the discovery, but did not recommend any money to be given him. 
A third appeal was made, which resulted in an investigation of his claims and se- 
cured to him the honor of the discovery of practical anaesthesia, and made an ap- 
propriation, which was voted on twice and was lost, as were also, after ten years 
of delay, his efforts to get the Government to recognize its own patent. Now 
thoroughly discouraged with his defeat, his creditors resolved to wait no long-er, 
and he became utterly ruined in fortunes. After several other vain efforts, he had 
one success. In 1858 — twelve years after the discovery was made — he Anally won 
a suit in the United States Court against a marine hospital surgeon for infringing 
his patent. Thus by hard fighting he succeeded in having his claim recog- 
nized, though the royalties on it were never paid. In other ways, too, both at 
home and abroad, the discovery was acknowledged his and in some cases he re- 
ceived the honors it merits. 

In his later years he became a farmer at Wellesley, Massachusetts, importing 
and raising fine cattle ; but his life was bound up in his discovery and when, in 
the summer of his fiftieth year, an article was published, attempting to deprive 
him of the cherished credit, he was so excited about it that a sudden illness came 
on and cavised his death. 

Dr. W. T. G. Morton was born in Charlton, Massachusetts, August 9, 1819. 
He died in New York City, July 15, 1868. 

Although Charles Thomas Jackson received the degree of Doctor of 
Medicine from Harvard University when he was twenty-four years old, he is bet- 
ter known as a mineralogist, a geologist, and a chemist, than as a physician. It 
was in following out chemical studies that he made his much-disputed discovery. 

His claim was that in the year 1834 — when he was twenty-nine years old — he 
found that an alcoholic solution of chloroform — that is, chloroform melted or dis- 
solved in alcohol — would, by being- placed upon a nerve, deaden it to pain. He 
also found, he'said, that if a piece of lint saturated with a mixture of one part 
chloroform and three parts of alcohol were put into the cavity of a painful tooth, 



Cfia7'les Thofuas Jackson. 339 

it would stop the pain at once, and by repeated applications would completely de- 
stroy the sensibility of the nerve. If Dr. Jackson really did make this discovery 
at the time he claimed, he undoubtedly was the first to find the secret of anaes- 
thetics, for Dr. Wells's discovery was not brought out until eleven years later, 
and Dr. Morton's was made known to the world two years after that. But he 
did not reveal the result of his experiments at once. Instead, he took up others 
with the same object in vicAv. After trying- the effects of exhilarating or "laugh- 
ing " gas — which is protoxide of nitrogen — and finding that it was not a real an- 
cesthetic, but only caused asphyxia, he began to study the merits of sulphuric 
ether. He tried this upon himself, he said, with a mixture of atmospheric air — 
out-of-door air, you know — and found that he could breathe it and make himself 
unconscious for a long time without its leaving an^^ dangerous or disagreeable re- 
sults. Shortly after this he had an accident. Without meaning to he breathed 
into his lungs some chlorine which gave him a great deal of pain. To ease the 
suffering, he inhaled some ether vapor, which gave him such relief that he made 
up his mind " that a surgical operation might be performed on a patient under the 
full influence of sulphuric ether without giving him any pain." This was Profes- 
sor Jackson's claim to the great discovery. It was brought before the public in 
about the year 1846. He was a man w^ell known in Boston, where he was i)rac- 
ticing medicine when he made the discovery about chloroform. A couple of years 
after that time he withdrew from his labors as a physician, and giving his time 
to other scientific studies, became especially noted for his knowledge of chemistry, 
mineralogy, and geology. He had alread^^ been geologist for the States of Maine 
and Rhode Island and New Hampshire, one after the other, and had taken a very 
forward and noted part in surveying those States and making known their min- 
eral resources, as he also did those of the unbroken wilderness of New York, 
which he explored after his discovery of ether. 

So, he was a scientific man of known attainments, and many took up his claim 
to the great discovery, while others believed in those of Dr. Morton and of Dr. Wells. 
He was supported by most of the Boston physicians and was honored abroad by 
orders and decorations from the governments of France, Sweden, Prussia, Turkey', 
and Sardinia. 

The great French Academj^ of Sciences was deeply interested in the discovery 
and appointed a committee to investigate and consider the merits of each claim- 
ant. The result of the report was that a prize of twenty-five hundred francs was 
given to Dr. Jackson as " the discoverer of etherization," and another of the same 
value was awarded to Dr. Morton " for the application of this discovery to scien- 
tific operations." Dr. Morton refused his. 

Dr. Jackson was already known in Europe ; when fresh from Harvard College 



340 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

he had studied three j^ears in Paris, and afterward made a foot journey through 
Switzerland and various portions of German}^ and Austria. Later he had visited 
the chief cities of Italj^ and made a geological tour through Sicily and Auverg-ne, 
in France. He returned on the same vessel — the packet ship Sully — which carried 
Professor Morse from Havre to New York on that important journey during 
which was conceived the idea of the magnetic telegraph. Dr. Jackson was the fel- 
low-passenger with whom Morse talked about electricity, and he was also one of the 
men who unsuccessfully' claimed the honor of heing the inventor of the telegraph. 

He was so great a scientist, inade so many valuable discoveries, and wrote so 
many able articles for the scientific journals of Europe and America, that he would 
have a place among our famous men if he had no claim at all to having given the 
world the blessing of anaesthetics ; and since, after careful investigation, this has 
been acknowledged before all others by the first of all scientific societies, his place 
is firmly established as one of the three great benefactors to the pain-suffering 
world. Nearly all Professor Jackson's chemical studies, like those in geology, 
were for practical use. Some of them were upon the cotton-plant, the tobacco- 
plant, Indian corn, a number of different kinds of American grapes, and other 
products of the United States. 

Overtaxed perhaps by his severe studies and crossed by many bitter con- 
tests over what he claimed to be his best work, his mind became affected as he 
grew^ old, and the last seven years of his life Avere unhappily passed in an asj'lum 
for the insane. 

Charles Thomas Jackson was born in Plymouth, Massachusetts, June 21, 1805. 
He died in Somerville, Massachusetts, August 29, 1880. 

The celebrated Austin Flint, the loss of whose venerable figure, kindly face, 
benevolent spirit and blameless life is still fresh in the memory of the whole 
country, was the greatest of a great race of phj^sicians. His great-grandfather, 
Dr. Edward Flint, was a noted man in the early days of the Massachusetts Colony, 
and liis grandfather and father were both ph^'sicians of repute and men of talent. 
" Old Dr. Flint," as he was called — because he had a son of the same name — 
was born during our second war with England, in New England, whei"e all his 
American ancestors had lived. His father was not a rich man, and he had a large 
famil^'^, but this son from his babyhood showed such great power of mind and was 
so studious, good, and dutiful, that his father expected wonderful things of him, 
and was willing to make any sacrifices to give him advantages. He was delighted 
that, while j'^et a boy, Austin decided to become a physician, and willingly made a 
good deal of effort to educate him at Amherst and Harvard. He graduated from 
the Harvard Medical College when he was twenty-one years old, and began to 



Austin Flint. 341 

practice in Northampton, Massachusetts, from whence he went to Boston. After 
three years ui these places he moved again, going this time to Buffalo, New York, 
which was then considered very far West indeed. 

From the first his success with his patients and his W' riting-s in the medical 
journals attracted attention. He was soon asked to lecture in the Rush Medical 
College in Chicago, which he did for a year, and then returned to Buffalo and 
founded the Buffalo Medical Journal, of which he remained the editor for ten 
years. 

Meanwhile his usefulness was extending- ; he helped to found the Buffalo Medi- 
cal College ; he became a professor in the Louisville University ; later, while still 
calling Buffalo his home, he passed several winters just before the war in New 
Orleans, lecturing and practicing. 

At the beginning of the strugg-le for the Union, he moved his family to New 
York, where he lived during- the rest of his life, as one of the most honored phj'- 
sicians, not only in America, but in the world. Soon after coming- to New York he 
became one of the doctors of Bellevue Hospital and was appointed to tw^o profes- 
sorships, one at Bellevue and one at the Long- Island College Hospital in Brook- 
lyn. Long before his death the calls upon his time and strength became so many 
that he g-ave up his position in the Brooklyn school, but his connection with the 
Bellevue College lasted until his death. He w^as a member of many medical soci- 
eties, both in this country and in Europe, and filled in them some most honorable po- 
sitions. Two of the most important of these offices were in the New York Academ3^ 
of Medicine, of which he was president for ten years, and the American Medical 
Association, of Avhich he w^as president for two years. For a much longer time, 
wiien not holding- office, he w^as an active, earnest member of both these societies, 
as well as of many others. Before his death he had been chosen president of the 
International Medical Congress to meet in 1887, but that he could not fill. During 
tlie winter before his death he had also been invited to address the British Medical 
Association, an honor never before paid to any American man of science. 

Dr. Flint's books are all on subjects connected with his profession ; there are 
a number of them, and all are considered standard works, remarkable for their 
eas3^, pleasant reading, as w^ell as for their value to science. Deep and learned as 
they are, being- written only for professional men, they seem to show^ forth in their 
style something of the directness, the modesty and simple manliness of the great 
mind that formed them. But no book, not even a biog-raphy, can convey a full 
idea of his noble character. His kindness was for all wiio met hmi in his business or 
in friendship, and his benevolence to the poor was open-hearted and unpretentious. 

Dr. Austm Flint, Sr., was born at Petersham, Massachusetts, October 20, 1812. 
He died in New York City, March 13, 1886. 



342 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Lon.g- before his death the elder Dr. Flhit saw his son in the foreinost ranks of 
their profession, making himself especially distini^uished in the department of 
physiology. Austin Flint, Jr., belongs to the fifth generation of medical doctors 
in this remarkable family, and is the third Dr. Austin Flint. While filling various 
important positions as surgeon and pi'ofessor in hospitals and colleges, he has 
added much to medical literature — chiefly on physiology — and has spent a great 
deal of time in making new experiments, some on living animals. The results 
were often important discoveries which attracted the interest and attention of 
almost all the scientific men in the country. He was one of the founders of the 
Bellevue Medical College in New York City, and from its beginning has been one 
of its professors. 

Among other great living physicians and surgeons of America, the name of 
Dr. William Roberts is one of the best known and most highly honored of j^ractic- 
ing physicians in the West; those of Dr. Roberts Barthalow, and Dr. S. Weir 
Mitchell — who has written many medical books, and is especiall}^ devoted to the 
cure of nervous diseases — are among the most famous in Philadelphia — the home 
of the profession in this country and the seat of the Homoeopathic School. In 
New York, Dr. S. L. Ranney is one of the most successful of practicing physicians, 
as is also Dr. Alfred Loomis, who is celebrated for his knowledge of diseases. 
Dr. Robert F. Weir, and Dr. William T. Helmuth, Sr., are eminent surgeons in 
their special lines, as was also Dr. Cornelius R. Agnew, who died in 1881; while 
Dr. Thomas F. Allen, the author of the great work on Materia Medica, and many 
other valuable writings, is a very successful general pliysician and surgeon, and 
a specialist in diseases of the eye and ear. Boston can also claim some of the 
greatest specialists as well as several of the most eminent general surgeons of this 
age. 

Of the women who have made their way into this, the noble profession, and 
have shown marked ability in it, the first is Miss Elizabeth Blackwell, who, though 
born in England, came early to America. Her work began here. She was the 
first woman in the world to obtain a medical diploma, and not only overcame 
every difficulty in her way to passing through a medical college in this country, 
but afterward went to Paris, and though told it would be impossible for her to 
gain entrance to the hospitals, kept persistently on till she had most successfully 
gained her object— her own education and an entrance into the profession for 
other women. Dr. Blackwell is now (1901) eighty-one years old, and is living 
in London, England. Much of her life has been spent here. She founded a wom- 
an's medical college in New York City, which is now in its twentieth year, and 
of which Dr. Emily Blackwell, the founder's sister, is dean ; and for many years 
she had a large private practice among New York people. 



SCHOLARS AND TEACHERS. 



OUTSIDE of the ministry one of the first really learned men of which America 
could boast was Lilidley Murray, the brilliant scholar wiio made the 
famous "Murray's Grammar of the English Langua.ge." 

He was the son of Robert Murray, a strict, stern Quaker miller, who lived near 
Lancaster, Pennsylvania ; and he began his education under one of the best teach- 
ers in Philadelphia. After a few years the family moved to New York, where 
Mr. Murray became one of the leading- merchants of his day. It is said that eight 
or ten years before the Revolution, he owned more tons of shipping than any other 
man in America, and that he also was one of the five persons in New York who 
were at that day rich enough to own a coach. He tried to make a merchant of 
his son, and put him in his own counting-room ; but Lindley was very unhappy 
with the round of his work and the hard restraints his father imposed. When 
they first came from Philadelphia, he had gone on with his studies, expecting to 
prepare for college ; but bad health prevented this, and the distasteful counting- 
room had been opened to him instead. Affairs did not always go on smoothly 
there, and one day the father punished his son unjustly, as Lindley thought, and 
the boy ran awa3^ For many weeks he hid himself in a boarding-house at Bur- 
lington, New Jersey, where he spent his time in study. After his parents found 
him, he was induced to return home, and allowed to go on with his studies. 

In a short time he entered a law office where John Jay, afterwards the famous 
diplomat, was a fellow-student. He followed his studies earnestly, and with the 
present of a fine law library from his father, entered the profession with a license 
to practice " in all the courts of the province " and every prospect of great suc- 
cess. But his health again gave out, and taking his wife — they had just been 
married — with him, he went to England for a change of climate. They returned 
in 1771, after a stay of several years, during which they were with his father and 
most of the famil3^, for, leaving two sons in New York, Robert Murray had opened 
a London branch of his business that greatly extended its importance Lindley's 
health was much better for the change, and after coming back to America he 



S44 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

attended to his law practice successfully until the Revolutionary War broke out. 
Then, being- a Friend and forbidden to take an^^ part in the conflict, if he had 
wanted to, he made his home for the next four years in a quiet cottage at Islip, 
Long- Ishmd. Then he went over to New York to try commerce instead of law, 
and by the close of the war he had become one of the wealtlij^ business men of 
the town. 

He retired with a fortvme when scarcely more than thirty-five years old, but 
not to comfort and happiness, for bad health had ag-ain come on him. After 
moving- from one country-seat near New York to another in Bethlehem, Penn- 
sylvania, lie and Mrs. Murray were finally forced to go to an entirely different 
climate. They sailed for England and made their home on a beautiful estate in 
Yorkshire. Yet even here the invalid was little better off. He g-radually became 
lame, and was confined to his room for sixteen years. This affliction came upon 
him in the prime of life, while his mind was in the fullness of its power ; so, in- 
stead of passing- his years in unhappy idleness, he occupied them with study and 
writing. He was very much opposed to ever becoming- an idler. Then it was 
that he made his g-reat English Grammar and English Reader, wrote a number 
of religious works, and compiled several French readers. ''I was often asked," 
he said, "to compose and publish a grammar of the English language, for the 
use of some teachers who were not perfectly satisfied with any of the existing 
grammars." After declining many times, he at length undertook the work, and 
with a great many misgivings about its success gave it into the hands of the pub- 
lishers, who brought it out in 1795. 

It would not seem a remarkable school-book now, for so very many have since 
been made on much the same plan ; but it will always be a famous book, because 
it was the first great step toward well-arranged and graded grammars. Mr. 
Murray spoke of this new idea of his very modestly when he said that it seemed 
to him that " a grammar containing a careful selection of the most useful matter 
and an adaptation of it to the understanding, and the gradual progress of learners, 
with a special regard to the propriety and parity of all the examples and illustra- 
tions, would be some improvement on any of the grammars I had seen." It was 
a great success at once ; it not only gave teachers and students a better text-book 
for learning- the English language than had ever before been known, but it aroused 
a great deal of interest in grammar among the leading scholar's of the time, 
bringing forward critical discussions which raised the use and the principles of lan- 
guage to a more important place than they had ever held before among people in 
general. As the various new editions were called for, Mr. Murray enlarged and 
improved his book so that it came to be a very comprehensive and thorough work, 
a standard for reference and a popular school-room guide. It was followed by a 



Lindley Murray. 



345 



simpler book for lower grades and beginners, and many other volumes of exercise 
books, spellers, and readers. He was a careful, painstaking scholar, and m ad- 
dition to the writing spent a great deal of time in correcting the proof-sheets, so 
that the pages should be as accurate as possible. 

He was a very pious man, with the greatest humility in regard to his work 




Lindley Murray. 



and the distinguished honors it brought him. His manners were simple, gracious, 
and engaging ; and while he loved best a quiet, studious life, he entertained many 
friends. He was a pleasing and an able talker upon many matters, and seldom 
said much about his own affliction, although for a long time he was not even able 
W T-ise from his seat. Even when he was alone with his family, he did not allow 



346 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Ms suffering' — which was very great at times — to make him in any way ill-tem- 
pered. Instead, he was bright and lively in his nature, ever cheerful, thoughtful 
and perfectly satisfied that his life was ruled by God and nothing in it was amiss. 

It was always a regret that he was forced to live away from America, and 
for a long time he hoped to return before his death. The great movements, the 
steady progress, and every matter of the nation's welfare interested him ; and 
when he died he willed that the bulk of his estate should, after his wife's death,, 
form a permanent fund to be used here in freeing " black people who may be held in 
slavery, assisting them when freed, and giving their descendants or the descend- 
ants of other black people, suitable education ; in promoting the civilization and 
instruction of the Indians of North America ; in the purchase and distiibution of 
books tending to promote piety and virtue and the ti-utli of Chi-istianity, and it is 
his msh that 'The Power of Religion on the Mind, in Retirement, Affliction, and 
at the Approach of Death ' (Mr. Murraj^'s own book), with the author's latest cor- 
rections and improvements, may form a considerable part of these books ; and in 
assisting and relieving the poor of anj' description, in an}- manner that ma3' be 
judged proper, especialh^ those who are sober, industrious, and of good character." 

Lindley Murray was born at Swetara, Pennsylvania, sometime in the year 
1745. He died at Holdgate near York, England, February IG, 18^U. 

While Lindlev Murrav. in exile from his native land, was giving the world 
some much-needed work on the English language, Beiijaniin Thompson, his 
countryman, was rising steadily to the ver}' highest rank among European scien- 
tists and philosophers. It is not easy to say just what place in history this won- 
derful man held, for he filled many offices of power and influence both as a scien- 
tist, a soldier, and a statesman ; but as his discoveries in science were of world-wide 
benefit, while most of his other services were for the good of that special nation 
which claimed him at the time, as an American he stands greatest as a man of 
learning. 

Benjamin Thompson's boyhood was passed in school until he was fourteen ; af- 
ter that as a clerk to a merchant in Salem, Massachusetts. When he was eigh- 
teen he had made his way to Harvard University and listened eagerly to a 
course of lectures on philosophy, which were given with practical experimerits be- 
fore the class ; and in the same year he began teaching school in the town of Rum- 
ford, which is now called Concord. He was then a tall, handsome young man of 
twentv vears, with a fine mind and courteous manners. He won the rich Mrs. 
Rolfe, a widow, for his wife, and with her moved to Woburn, his native town. 

When the battle of Lexington took place, it is said that he turned out with the 
patriots and afterward applied for a commission in the Continental Arm3^ But 



Benjamin Thompson. 



347 



in history he is known as a Toiy. At the beg-inning of the trouble he had decUned 
to join with the Colonists against the king, so they refused to have him in their 
ranks when the conflict beg'an, and he joined the Royalists. At this his townsmen 
turned out against him, following him through the streets in a threatening- crowd 
until he had to seek refuge in the British camp at Boston. There he was taken 




Benjamin Thompson. 



into the service and sent to England in the autumn of 1775, to cany despatches to 
Lord George Germain. He was not returned to America, but was appomted clerk 
in the Foreign Office, where he did such good Avork that in four years he became 
Under Secretary of State. During- the last year of the Revolution he was sent 
back to this country with the commission of a high office in the army, but he never 
took part in any action of war, and was called back agam before he had seen his 
wife and child. 



348 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

After returning- to England, he went almost at once to Germany with letters 
to some of its greatest men from several of the most distinguished persons in Eng- 
land, for, hj that time, Benjamin Thompson's ability as a statesman and his sci- 
entific attainments had i^laced him among the foremost men of the day, although 
he was but little over thirtv vears of ai^e. In the German State of Bavaria he was 
made most welcome, and introduced to the Elector or reigning prince, who asked 
him to become his aid-de-camp and chamberlain. Being a British subject and 
latelj^ in the service of the Government, he had to go to England for permis- 
sion to accept these offers. They were not only cordially granted hy the king, 
but the industrious New England schoolmaster was knighted b^^ His Majest^^ and 
took his way to his new offices as Sir Benjamin Thompson. His abilities soon won 
for him still higher places in the esteem of the prince, and he became the second 
man in the kingdom. From an aid he was made Lieutenant-General, then Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the Staff, Minister of War, and lastly Commander-in-Chief of 
the General Staff. In diplomacy he was equally great, and was made Member of 
the Council of State, while he was created Knight of Poland and Member of the 
Academy of Sciences in three cities. Then, when he showed himself able to reform 
many evils in the condition of Munich — the capital and chief city of the State — he 
became Superintendent of the Police of Bavaria, and was even made Chief Regent 
when, in 1T96, the prince was forced to be absent from his realm. 

He had already become known by a greater title than that of a knight. In 1790 
he had been raised to the highest office under the German kings, hy being made 
a Count in the Hol}^ Roman Empire. This was equal to the English title of Earl, 
and was a great honor to anj^ one, especially a foreigner. In memory' of the 
Massachusetts town where he had found his wife and his little daughter was born, 
he chose the title of Count Rumford, 'by which name he is best known in history'. 
His wife died in America about this time, and he sent for his dau.ghter, then a 
beautiful young lady of twenty, to join him. 

The people of Munich have statues to his memory, and hold his name in as 
grateful i-emembrance as manj" of their countrymen ; and he well deserves their 
honors. The beg'gars who overran and disgraced the city he provided with work- 
houses, and compelled them to earn their own living. Yet the poor and sick were 
on his mind for care and protection, and it was while devising means to warm and 
clothe them with econom^^ that he made some experiments Avith heat and light 
which led to very valuable discoveries in science. Beside the practical results of 
making improved chimneys and apparatus for heating and lighting houses. Count 
Rumford proved in these studies that "gases are non-conductors, and fluids very 
imperfect conductors of heat ; " he also explained that " heat is extended in liquids 
only by convection, or the continuous changing about of the particles of the 



Alexander Wltson. ■ 349 

liquid," and that " a flame in open air gives but little heat to bodies placed above 
it." These discoveries and the Count's observations on his experiments were 
published in London in 1795, while he was on a visit to that city. The Elector 
w^ould have liked to have had him stay there and act as Bavarian Minister, but 
that Count Rumford could not do. It was against the law for a Briton to repre- 
sent the interests of an}' other country than his own at Court. 

When the Elector died in the last year of the last century, Count Rumford 
left the Bavarian court, and, marrying the widow of Antoine Laurent Lavoisier, 
the great French chemist, in 1805, he spent the remainder of his life in France. 
These years were not filled with public duties, but were quietly spent in literary 
and scientific pursuits, and in the company of the most learned men and women 
of Europe. 

Beside his many other services to England, he formed the plan of and was in 
18!)0 the founder of the Royal Institution, the great scientific societ^^ of London, 
which has fostered the most eminent scholars of this century, and has done more 
than any other institution in England for the development and the spread of scien- 
tilic knowledge. 

Benjamin Thompson, Count Rumford, was born at Woburn, Massachusetts, 
March 26, 1753, or 1753. He died at Anteil, near Paris, August 21, 1814. 

When this century, now so near its close, was just daAvning on the world, there 
was a Scotchman named Alexander Wilson teaching school at Kingsessing, 
Pennsylvania, who in a few years told the world more about American birds 
than it had ever dreamed of before. He was then a man tliirt^'-four years 
old, who had been in the United States about six 3^ears, first employing himself at 
the loom— for he was a weaver by trade — and then at teaching school in this little 
town near Philadelphia. 

In liis distant Scottish home, he had not had a good educixtion to begin with, 
but while working as a weaver's apprentice he had spent his evenings in study and 
verse-writing, so that he was quite fitted to teach. In those days it was not 
necessary for a man to be very learned to become a schoolmaster in America. 

One of the pleasantest things about this new situation was that it placed Mr. 
Wilson near the farm and the botanical gardens of William Bartram, a celebrated 
botanist of that time, who knew a great deal about natural history, especially 
birds. Wilson was glad of the first chance he could get to talk with this learned 
fanner, for from the very first he had been particularly interested in the birds he 
had seen in this country. He soon had many talks about their habits with Mr. 
Bartram, and in a ver^^ short time began to study them with the deepest en- 
thusiasm. First, though, he took up the general study of natural history. Iliy 



^^^ One Hundred Famous Americans. 

pupils entered into his fondness most heartily. His room was crowded with the 
little four-footed animals, reptiles, and birds of the neighborhood, and all the bovs 
throughout the country-side were on the lookout for rare specimens for the mas- 
ter, who was sure to reward them for a prize with a few coppers 

It was soon plain that Mr. Wilson was no ordinary bird-lover,* and that he was 
particularly gifted for that sort of study, which is called ornithology. In the year 
1803 the Idea came to him of making a book on American birds. He resolved to 
travel through the United States, getting specimens of all the birds he could find 
and making drawings of them. After that, he hoped that some way would open 
to pay the costs of having all this which he should prepare made into a book so 
that the whole world might know about the Inrds that filled the country of the 
New World. At the time Dr. Wilson formed this plan he had just seve'iity-five 
cents in his pocket, but he wrote to Mr. Bradford, a Boston publisher laying 
his plan before him, and was almost overcome with happiness in receiving the 
answer that Mr. Bradford thought so well of it, that he would not only publish 
the work when it was done, but would furnish the author with what funds he would 
need to prepare it. 

The material for two volumes was almost finished then, for Mr Wilson had 
already been several years at work. He had tramped over the country till he 
knew the habits and the peculiarities of almost all the birds of the Northern and 
Eastern States, and had drawings of them carefully made. Matters beino- ao-reed 
between the author and his publisher, the first book was brought out as^soon as 
possible. This was in 1808, and with a sample copy under his arm, Mr Wilson 
set out at once to seek "birds and subscribers," as he said. 

He was not the greatest success as a salesman, l)ut as an ornitliologist or bird 
student, he now began to do some wonderful work. He not only found and studied 
new specimens for himself, but he cultivated the acquaintance of other bird-lovers 
whom he met in his travels, and getting them interested in his enterprise before 
long he had the whole of the Eastern States stationed with sharp-eyed, intelligent 
foresters on the lookout for every bird, especially every strange bird, that spread 
Its wings on the air of forest or meadow, hill or dale. One of Mr. Wilson's first 
tours was a foot journey through the trackless wilderness of Western New York 
He was a lover of all nature, and in a poem called " The Foresters " he e-ave a 
graphic account of this excursion. 

After having pretty thoroughly studied the birds of the Eastern States, he 
started for the South. He walked to Pittsburg, and there buying a little boat he 
launched it upon the Ohio, to go by water to Cincinnati. The skiff which he 
called the Ornithologist, was fitted out with some biscuits and cheese and a bottle 
of cordial-given to him by a gentleman of Pittsburg-for provisions, while his 



Alexander Wilson. 351 

luggage consisted of a trunk, a greatcoat, and his gun. These were stowed away 
in one end, while the devoted student sat alone in the other. His whole being 
was filled with joy at the beauty that began to unfold before him, and at the 
novel situation he was in. This, too, is all described in an interesting account of 
the pleasures and varied experiences of twenty-one days of sailing over the dis- 
tance of five hundred miles of the noble river Ohio. After a short stay in Cincin- 
nati, he crossed the river to the Kentucky shore, and made his way to Nashville, 




Alexander Wilson. 

Tennessee. Stopping here for a few days, he made drawings of all the birds he 
had seen and got ready for a long trip alone through the wilderness. Many people 
advised him against taking this journey, but feeling sure that for the most part the 
stories of the dangers he should meet were exaggerated, he kept on m his purpose, 
and set out in the early part of May. He had equipped himself well. His horse was 
a fine, trustworthy animal ; a loaded pistol was stuck in each pocket, a loaded fowl- 
ing-piece hung across his shoulder, and in his belt was plenty of shot, while his 
flask held a pound of gunpowder. In arms and ammunition he was prepared for 



352 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

all the birds, beasts, or Indians he would be likely to see. For his food he carried 
some dried beef and biscuit. He reached Natchez and even New Orleans quite 
safe from all the dangers he had been warned of, and well ladened with materials 
for his work, though he had not found many subscribers. 

It was about the first of July that he reached the great port of the Mississippi, 
and as the fever season was near at hand, he soon took passage for New York, 
and from there returned to Philadelphia. 

He set to work at once to finish his books, and completed the eighth volume by 
midsummer. It was a grand task, wonderfully executed. In a little more than 
seven years he had by his own industr^^, courage, and talents — almost unaided — 
done more than all the naturalists of Europe had accomplished during a whole 
century. It was a great, original work, for while none of the two hundred and 
seventy-five birds in his " Ornithology " were thoroughly known before his time, 
there were fifty-six kinds that no naturalist had ever before taken any notice of. 
It was a task beyond the ability of most men, and beyond the strength of Mr. 
Wilson, though he was yet in middle life. He had scarcely finished pi'eparing 
the eighth volume for the publisher before his health gave way entirely and death 
came very soon. There was still material for two more volumes, which were 
edited and published after his death, and ten years later the work was continued 
by four more volumes prepared by Charles Lucien Bonaparte, who beside being 
a French prince, was an eminent naturalist, and lived for some time in Philadel- 
phia. So, in addition to the value of Mr. Wilson's works in themselves, the 
" American Ornithology " opened the way for the labors of other naturalists, who 
have completely and pei'fectly covered the subject of the birds of this continent. 

Alexander Wilson was born at Paisley, Scotland, July G, 1766. He died in 
Philadelphia August 23, 1813. 

Baron Cuvier, the great French naturalist, once said that the most mag- 
nificent monument that art has ever set up to the study of birds is the work of 
John James Audubon. This author, painter, and naturalist was the son of 
a planter who had been an admiral in the French navy, and was born in Louisiana 
the year before the close of the Independence War in America. He was sent to 
Paris to be educated when he was about fifteen years old, and there studied de- 
signing in the school of the celebrated historical painter, Jacques Louis David. 
But he was glad to come back to his own country in about three years, foi* there 
was no trait stronger in John Audubon's nature than his love for the streams and 
forests of his native land, and the birds and animals that lived in them. He mar- 
i"ied soon after his return, and receiving fi'om his father a beautiful plantation on 
the banks of the Schuylkill in Pennsylvania, he settled down to become a fanner. 



John James Audubon. 



353 



Mrs. Audubon appreciated her husband's love for nature, and when after a few- 
years he spent months and even years in wandering- through the grand and lonely 
forests of Pennsylvania, she met him from time to time, cheered and encouraged 
him and gave him money. Without her aid he could never have succeeded in the 
work that he finally undertook. While others felt that he might better stay at 
home and mind his farm and family, she seems to have understood that there 




John James Audubon. 

was a greatness in his mind that led him off upon these trips to study nature and 
sketch the dwellers of the lonel}^ woods which would some day prove itself to all. 
He always took his pencil and paints with him and made careful color studies of 
all the birds he could find. He was one of the most skilful painters we have ever 
had, although his gifts were only shown in bird pictures. 

After a while the Audubons decided to go further west, where Mr. Audubon 
could be near his wife and the little child they had, without having to give up his 



354 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

life in the forests. So, in the autumn of 1810, they floated clown the Ohio in an 
open skiff, taking- two negroes and their household goods with them, and settled 
in the village of Henderson, Kentucky, for their new home. '' Day after day, with 
his dog-, gun, and box of pencils and colors, he made excursions, now shooting 
down a hnxl, now carefully picturing- its form and colors, ag-ain peering into a nest 
or scaling- a clitf, for hours watching- the conduct of a pair of birds, and jotting- 
down in a note-book all tliat he saw them do, where he found them, wliat and how 
they ate, built their nests, cared for their young-. Over streams, thi-oug-h tangled 
brushwood, amid swamps, and in stony ravines, in storm, sunshine, and starlight, 
with unwearied feet and uncooled enthusiasm, he watched the habits and the vary- 
ing plumage and the whole life of the feathered creatures that live in America, 
north and south, east and west, with no companions Init the wild beast, the 
Indian, and the birds which he studied, to watch his curious labors." 

What was it all for ? A love of nature. From tlie time that Audubon was a 
little boy, the song- and the plumag-e of birds delighted him. His father, an edu- 
cated gentleman and a naturalist, encouraged this taste in him. He used often to 
walk with him through the country, describing the life of the birds in the woods, 
telling- their peculiarities, and teaching- his little son to notice the differences in 
them, and pointing out how one belong-cd to one kind and another to another, on 
account of this trait or that. Soon after moving- to Kentucky, Mr. Audubon met 
Alexander Wilson, Avho was then in the midst of his labors; and and many years 
later he became acquainted with Charles Luci(>n Bonaparte. These two men in- 
fluenced the course of his own w^ork very much, especially Bonaparte, who saw of 
what great value Audubon's work would be to the world, and offered to buy his 
drawings, and talked to Audubon about bring-ing- them before the public. 

Until this time, the idea of publishing- what he had learned of nature, and be- 
coming famous throug-h his labors, had never come to him. This was in 1824 ; 
two years more he spent in fiirther study in the woods, and in g-etting his draw- 
ings and notes ready to be made into a book ; then he started for London to se(i 
what arrangements he could make. When he landed he was lilled with hopes 
and doubts. With no influence, little money, and being a stranger in a land of so 
many eminent scholars, he w^is fearful that he had g-one there in vain. But his 
doubts were soon scattered, for the moment his work was seen, not London alone, 
but the great scholars of Edinburgh, of Paris, Berlin, and all Europe, assured him 
of its value, and cheered and aided him with their influence and friendship. His own 
countrymen too, saw the importance of his studies more quickly than that of 
many specialists is recognized, and altog-ether a hundred and seventy people sub- 
scribed a thousand dollars each for a copy of the " Birds of America." 

The monarchs of Eng-land and France headed the list of subscribers, and the 



John James Audubon. 355 

greatest natural history scholars in tlie world welcomed him as their equal, and 
encoui-aged him to publish liis work. So he remained in Europe for several 
years. When he came back it was only for a short stay while he explored the 
coasts, the lakes, the rivers, and the mountains, from Labi-ador and Canada to 
Florida, so as to add the water fowls to his portfolio. Then he went back to 
superintend the publishing- of the book. 

The plates of the birds were life-size, with wonderfully fine and accurate repre- 
sentations of the forms, colors, attitudes, and expression of both male and female 
— little ones and grown-up ones grouped together — showing their plumag'e at dif- 
ferent seasons, the vegetation they prefer, the soil, the food, sometimes the hab- 
its, and often the prey of each bird ; the sui-roundings were a faithful represent- 
ation of the landscape, the bare cliffs, the shores of sea or stream which the creat- 
ures make their favorite haunts. These were excellent, finished pictures, the 
work of a patient artist who had labored again and again over a single picture, 
destroying one attempt after another as long* as he coidd find a defect iti drawing* 
or coloring that jarred against the artist, or a single mistake that challenged the 
keen criticism of the ornithologist. The reading matter was scarcely less impor- 
tant than the plates. In easy and enthusiastic language he described the appear- 
ance and the life of the birds as he saw them himself Avhen secretly watching them 
b}'^ the hour in their lonely homes, and following their lead in the passages from 
one climate to another at the chang-e of seasons. It is not a set of dry and formal 
chapters, hard names, and bare descriptions ; but along with the careful and accu- 
rate accounts that make the work of the greatest scientific value, there are bright 
stories of his personal adventures, sketches of scenery, and interesting accounts 
of the habits and traits of out-of-the-way people whom he came across in his 
journeyings. 

Altogether the woi'k makes five folio volumes of colored engravings, illustrating 
about one thousand and sixty-five species of birds, all of the natural size ; and five 
volumes of printed matter. The books are about as large as the sheet of a single 
newspaper doubled once. It is the finest work on birds that has ever been pub- 
lished ; and the greatest naturalists of France generously declared that in the 
" Birds of America " Audubon had achieved a work that had no equal in all Europe. 

When it was completed the famous author brought his family to a home on 
the Hudson, near New York City, where he still kept at work. He was now 
about sixty years old, and had two able sons who helped him a great deal. He 
made a cheaper edition of the " Birds " in seven volumes, with all the engravings 
carefully reduced, or made of smaller size ; and after this was brought out, he went 
again to the fields and forests, the mountains and the swamps, now in company 
with his two sons — to gather descriptions and make drawings for the " Quadruped& 



\ll 



35G One Hundred Famous Americans. 

of America," which is as noble a work upon the four-footed animals of the New 
World as the first one upon its birds. At the end of all the labors of getting 
through the press this gi-eat work, which made three volumes of plates and three 
volumes of printing, Mr. Audubon — now seventy, years old — rested from toil and 
hardship in the happ3", loving atmosphere of his home and family ; for he was a 
genius who was honored in his own house. 

All this vast amount of work was not done without a great many trials and 
losses ; but whenever specimens or drawings were lost — even though it would take 
years to replace them— or when, as in the panic of 1837, subscribers were unable 
to buy his books, or whatever disaster and discouragement fell upon him — and he 
seemed to have more than most men's share — lie always met his troubles cheer- 
fully, calmly, and bravely, showing a sublime heroism that only belongs to natures 
that are trul,>' great. 

The great Professor Wilson, of Edinburgh, said of Mr. Audubon as a man : " He 
is just what you Avould expect from his work, fiQl of line enthusiasm and intelli- 
gence, most interesting in his looks and manners." He had a liigli arched brow, 
dark gray eyes, and a bright, courageous, happy temper; and was " esteemed by 
all who know him for tlie simplicity and frankness of his nature. He is the great- 
est artist, in his OAvn walk, that ever lived." 

John James Audubon w^as born at New Orleans, Louisiana, May 4, 1780. He 
died at his home near New York City, January 27, 1851. 

The elder Beiijainin Silliinaii was one of the first and greatest of Amer- 
ican scientists. His son and namesake is also an eminent man, especially in chem- 
istry, and has added very much to his father's important labors in science both 
for Yale College and the w^orld ; but the first Professor Silliman is particularly 
honored as a pioneer worker when science was little studied and still less appre- 
ciated in America. He was but one j^ear older than Mr. Audubon, and while the 
great naturalist was studying- ai"t in David's studio at Paris, he was taking the 
regular course at Yale College, Avliere he soon became a tutor and then a profes- 
sor. But before taking this last position, he devoted two years to stud^'ing chem- 
istry in Philadelphia. When he was twenty-five years old, he began his lectures 
to the students at New Haven, and opened a long career of fift^^ years that was 
honorable to himself and the college, and of vast importance to science. His fame 
spread beyond the city of New Haven ; students came to hear him from all parts 
of the country ; and it was before them that he was always at his best, more full 
of enthusiasm in his subject, moi-e alive with sympathy in the ambitions of his 
young friends, and more clear and eloquent in his explanations, than he ever ap- 
peared in any other place. 



Benjamin SilUman. 



357 



During" the next ten years, Professor Silliman's life was an earnest and busy 
one. At intervals between Ms lecturing and laboratory work at Yale, he went to 
Europe and wrote two volumes about what he saw there, in a " Journal of Trav- 
els in England, Holland, and Scotland" — a very popular and interesting book. 
He also made a geological survey of a part of Connecticut, and made an important 




Benjamin Silliman. 

contribution to science by analyzing a stone that fell from the sky. This meteor- 
ite — as such stones are called — ^was found in Weston, Connecticut, and attracted 
a g-reat deal of attention ; and it was a matter of g-reat importance when Profes- 
sor Silliman found out of what it was composed. 

In the year 1818 he began to publish a scientific magazine which he called 
The American Journal of Science and Arts, but wliich is better known as " Silli- 
man's Journal." It is the best as well as the oldest journal of its kind in this 



358 One Hundred t^amous Americans. 

country ; for more than half a centurj^ the scholars of Europe and America have 
looked to it for record and description of all the new and important discoveries 
made by our scientists ; and its back numbers are a library of some of the best 
papers ever written upon the great scientific attainments of the age. 

In the latter years of his life Professor Silliman went again to Eui'ope and 
wrote two volumes about his trip. These were as much read and as popular as 
the "Journals" of his first visit. He had a faculty' for interesting people in all 
that he wrote or said. Those who were not scientists enjoyed science as he talked 
about it, and when he gave some courses of popular lectures on geology and chem- 
istry in different large cities of the United States, they were always attended by 
large audiences. 

Though his whole life was devoted to science and teaching, he was also deeply 
interested in public affairs, especiall^^ in the cause of liberty. "When the great 
trouble arose in Kansas, he came out boldl^^ and forcibly in opposition to slavery, 
although he was then seventj'-eight years old. He resigned from his position in the 
college a few years before this time, but New Haven was still his home ; and there, 
where he was best known, he was honored and reverenced by all, for his greatness 
in science, his noble character, and many virtues consistent with his simple faith in 
Christianity. 

Benjamin Silliman, Sr., was born in North Stratford (now Trumbull), Connecti- 
cut, August 8, 1779. He died in New Haven, in the same State, November 24, 1864. 

Professor Silliman's great successors at Yale and as editors of his Journal 
were his son, Benjamin Silliman, Jr., and his son-in-law, James Dwight 
Dana. 

The younger Professor Silliman was born at New Haven, and graduated from 
Yale when he was twenty-one. After teaching chemistr^^ there for a number of 
years he became a regular professor of that science, and in about eight years took 
the still more important chair made vacant by his father's resignation. He be- 
came associate editor of the Jommal soon after his graduation, and is now chief 
editor with Professor Dana. Like his father, he is the author of several important 
books on chemistry, and in that branch of science ranks as one of the most impor- 
tant scholars in this countrv. 

James Dwight Dana was famous throughout this country as a master of 
the three extensive departments of knowledge that treat of the sciences of miner- 
als ; of the earth, or geology ; and of natural history, or zoology. Always fond 
of this sort of stud}", he was attracted to Yale by the fame of the elder Silliman, 
and when he was seventeen years old he left his home in New York State to study 
under him. 



James D wight Dana. 



359 



About the time he graduated, he was appointed teaclier of mathematics to 
midshipmen in the navy of the United States, and in tlie ship of war Delaware he 
sailed to the Mediterranean Sea. After returning from this voyag'e, he first be- 
came assistant to tlie disting-uislied professor, who had so mucli influence on his 




James Dwight Dana. 

hfe from the first, whose daughter he afterward married, and whom he finally 
succeeded — in part with his son — in both his colleg^e and his editorial work. 

But these events did not follow at once. After a couple of 3'ears with his pro- 
fessor he left New Haven to act as mineralogist and geologist on the United 
States exploring expedition that, under Captain Wilkes, was sent around the 
world. The discoveries on this trip and many observations made elsewhere were 



oGO One Hundred Famous AmeiHcans. 

published after his return ; while just before starting out he had made a first edi- 
tion of his greatest work, the "Manual of Mineralogy and Geology." This is the 
greatest and best work of its kind that has ever been published in this country, 
and is looked upon as a standard authority both in Europe and in America. 
Professor Dana enlarged and revised it several times, so that it always included 
the new discoveries and knowledge. 

He lived to be a venerable and highly honored man, a member of the Academy 
of Sciences in Berlin, Germany, and of many other learned societies in both the 
Old World and the New. Those who can best understand his abilities say that 
beside the close and accurate powers of observation that are necessary to every stu- 
dent of nature, he also ranked among the very foremost of philosophic naturalists. 
His books on geology and minerals not only cover the great systems of those 
branches of science — in which they are the standard works of reference and school- 
books — but also include several valuable volumes on special branches of the great 
subjects he has so well mastered, one of the most interesting of which is the 
"Corals and Coral Islands." 

Professor Dana was born at Utica, New York, February 12, 1813. He died at 
New Haven, April 14, 1895. 

Among the many other learned men of this age whose labors were chiefly 
within the walls of Yale College were President Woolsey and Professor Whit- 
ney. The venerable figure of Theodore Dwiglit Woolsey, but slightly bent 
with the weight of years, was still seen in the college chapel long after he ceased 
to be President. He was a Doctor of Divinity and a Doctor of Laws. He was 
especially learned in theology, which he studied at Princeton, and in Greek, which 
he began to teach at Yale when he was a young man of thirty, and on which he 
wrote some very valuable books. He was only forty-five years old when he was 
made president of the college, and when, at the age of seventy, he resigned, it was 
believed by students, teachers, professors, and patrons, that his administration 
marked one of the greatest quarter-centuries in the history of the college. All 
regretted to have him leave his post, for, aged as he was, his mind did not show 
the slightest sign of failing power; and it long continued to be as forcible, rich, 
and active as when he was in the prime of life. 

Dr. Woolsey was born in New York City, October 31, 1801. He died in New 
Haven, July 1, 1889. 

The fame of William Dwight Whitney was chiefly as a master of lan- 
guages. In this science — which is called philology — he is said to have had only 
one equal in the world. That was Professor Max Midler, of Germany. Both of 
them were particularly noted for their knowledge of the Oriental languages. 



Joseph Henry. 361 

Professor Whitney was not a student of Yale, as was President Woolsey. He 
graduated from Williams College, and then went to Berlin and to Tiibingen, 
where he gained vast stores of knowledge on Sanskrit and other languages, which 
the trustees of New Haven asked him to use for the benefit of their college, on his 
return to this country. This was in the year 1854, when he was twenty-seven 
years old; he lived to the age of sixty-seven years, full of honors for his life-long 
devotion to study and teaching. Much of his time was also given to writing. 
He contributed valuable articles to the learned journals and the leading popidar 
magazines of this country; he wrote for Appleton's " New American Cyclopsedia," 
and the great Sanskrit Dictionary; and on his own account he prepared German 
grammars, readers, and a dictionary which are used by many students in all parts 
of the United States. He was richly gifted with the qualities that are necessary to 
the mind of a profound scholar^ — clear insight, sound judgment, and accurate, 
deep, and varied learning. Honors and degrees of many kinds were bestowed 
upon him at home and abroad, and some of the greatest philological societies in 
the world reckoned him as one of their most able and useful members. 

Professor Whitney was born at Northampton, Massachusetts, February 9, 
1827. He died at New Haven, Connecticut, June 7, 1894, 



One of the greatest of the world's pioneers in natural science was the pro- 
found scholar, successful teacher, and noble gentleman, Joseph Henry. 
Abroad he is best known for his discoveries in electricity. In America his name 
will always be linked with Princeton College, where he was Professor of Natural 
Philosophy, and with the Smithsonian Institution at Washing-ton, of which he was 
manager for thirty-two years, from the prime of his life to its close. 

A native of Albany, New York, he was l)orn shortly before the beginning of this 
century, and growing rapidly" with its swift progi-ess, he soon began to mark the 
age with the results of his studies and investigations. It has been said that he 
exerted a more enduring and wide-spread influence upon the progress of American 
science than any man of his generation. 

He came from a humble Scotch family, whose ancestry is not known, and he 
never had a single blood relation of intellectual prominence. It is not even known 
just when he came into the world. His father died when he was still very young ; 
and he was only a boy when he lost his mother, also. At the age of seven he 
was taken to live with his grandmother at Gal way, near Saratoga. The great 
advantages that are carefully placed before some boys, Joseph Henry knew noth- 
mg- about. He went to the village school for a little while and began secretly to 
read the romances and dramas in the village library, to wliich he accidentally 



362 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

obtained access. This life at his grandmother's went on till he was no longer 
little Joseph, hut a gTowing- lad of fourteen. He was old enough then, it 
was thought, to begin to earn his living, so he went back to Albany and was 
apprenticed to learn the jeweler's trade. He worked at this for two years, but 
happening one time to get possession of a copy of Robinson's " Mechanical Phi- 
losophy," his thoughts were turned in an entirely new direction. Suddenly a 
taste for natural philosophy woke up within him, and he soon became a student of 
sciences at the Albany Academy, then in charge of T. Romeyn Beck, the noted 
physician and scientist. 

Henry soon proved a faithful and an able student. His progress and his gen- 
eral character so pleased Dr. Beck that he obtained for him a place as tutor in 
one of the first families in the city. These duties took three hours of each day, and 
the rest of his time was spent in assisting Dr. Beck in his chemical investigations 
and studying anatomy and physiology, for he was then studying a course in med- 
icine. He did not follow this out, though, for his health became poor and he 
thought he had better undertake some out-of-door work. After a year of survey- 
ing in the western part of New York, he returned quite well again, and then 
went back to the academy as one of its professors. 

It was while filling the pleasant duties of this position that he began " the brill- 
iant series of researches in electricity on which his purely scientific reputation 
principally rests, and which culminated in the discovery of the Morse telegraph." 
His apparatus was so poor and his means for research and publication so limited 
compared to the importance of the results he obtained, that he has been placed 
beside Faraday as an experimentalist. " He was the only discoverer of one of the 
Qiost singular forms of electrical induction, and was among the first — perhaps he 
was the very first — to see clearly the laws which connect the transmission of elec- 
tricity with the power of the battery employed." He then devoted himself to 
finding the way to produce mechanical effects at a great distance by the aid of an 
electro-magnet and conducting wire. " The horseshoe electro-magnet, formed by 
winding copper wire around a bar of iron bent into the form of a V, had been 
known before this time, and it Avas also known that by increasing the number of 
coils of wire greater force could be given to the magnet if the latter were near the 
battery. But when it was removed to a distance the power was found to weaken 
at so rapid a rate that the idea of using the electro-magnet for telegraphic pur- 
poses seemed hopeless." Mr. Henrj^ made up his mind to make one experiment 
after another until he should discover what were the reasons that the power grew 
less in that way. His success was truly wonderful. He invented the first ma- 
chine which is moved by electro-magnetism, and used it to show that a self-acting 
and moving — or what is called oscillating — iron bar inclosed in insulated '^.opper 



Joseph Henry. 



363 



wire would keep moving- or oscillating' as long as the magnetic force was applied. 
He discovered a relation between the number of coils of wire roand the electro- 
magnet and the construction of the battery to work it, and showed that the very 
same amount of acid and zinc would produce entirely different effects when 
arranged in dilferent ways, and that by increasing the number of cells in the bat- 




JosEPH Henry, 

tery there was no limit to the distance at which its effects might be felt. He also 
showed the remarkable power that may be produced by a small galvanic appa- 
ratus, exhibiting- in 1829 some electro-magnets of far g-reater power than any 
ever before tried. There was one which took up OY\\.y a cubic foot of battery space 
and was capable of supporting between three and four thousand pounds. By this 
time he was regarded as one of the greatest students and discoverers in electricity 
that the world had seen since the days of Benjamin Franklin. He became a 



364 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

writer for the leading* scientific journals, and devoted a great deal of time to hard 
labor and close investigation. 

The idea of making sig-nals at a distance with the aid of electricity was in his 
mind for a long- time before the telegraph was thought of. He succeeded in ring- 
ing" a bell by electricity at the end of a wire a mile long-, in 1832 — the year before 
Professor Morse made that memorable voyag"e on the packet Sully, during- which 
he first thoug-ht of his invention. These experiments laid the scientific founda- 
tion of the electric teleg'raph, which was merely completed for practical use when 
Professor Morse invented an instrument by which the effects of the battery were 
made to register in a system of sig-ns that could be understood by all operators. 
Professor Henry even had the idea of making- communications with distant points 
by means of magnetism, although his plan was not the same as that wiiich Profes- 
sor Morse conceived and reduced to a practical invention. 

The year after Mr. Henr^^ published an account of these important discoveries, 
he was asked to become Professor of Natural Philosophy in the College of New Jer- 
sey at Princeton. Although he had so modest an opinion of himself that he ac- 
cepted this position with a great deal of diffidence, he was altogether worthy of 
the honor, both as a gentleman and as a teacher of science. His dignified, manly 
bearing, and refined, intellectual face marked his appearance among other men ; 
and in wiiatever society he w^as found his pure, genial humor, delicate taste, ready 
story-telling, and good manners made him a valuable member. His nature was 
generous through and through. Even though he did so much great and original 
work which merits the highest honor, he never was known to harbor any ill and 
personal feeling against those who wronged him. He had a full share of rivals 
and enemies, and once or twice he had to request an investigation of charges 
brought against him, chiefly by other scientists ; but he always did this with the 
fairest, most courteous spirit, simply asking to have the case understood and the 
matter fairly dealt with. In all the controversies that arose, in which his name 
was sometimes associated, he never, it is said, took the slightest part. 

The change from the comparatively small academy at Albany to the great 
college at Princeton was of vast importance to Professor Henry's work. It gave 
him much better opportunities to carry on his researches. " He found congenial 
society, a large and appreciative circle of listeners, large additions to his supply 
of apparatus, and a scientific society glad to i^ublish his researches. Before this 
his publications were mostly confined to papers in Silliman's Journal. The Trans- 
actions of the American Philosophical Society now afforded him room for much 
more extended accounts of his investigations, and enabled him ver^^ soon to acquire 
an European reputation." 

Five years after he made this most advantageous change, he visited Europe 



Joseph Henry. 365 

and made the acquaintance of Faraday, Wlieatstone, Bailej^ and other eminent 
pliysicists, discussing- with Wheatstone the projects for an electric telegraph in 
England. This visit seemed to greatly freshen his mind and give him new life for 
his work ; when he returned he took up his lectures with greater zest than ever, 
and held his place as the foremost of American scientific teachers until 1846, 
when he was called to an entirely different oi'der of work. 

" Ten years before Congress had accepted by a solemn act the curious bequest — 
in all amounting to more than five hundred and forty thousand dollars — given by 
James Smithson to the United States in trust, ' to found at Washington an estab- 
lishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men.' This will g-ave 
no indication whatever to the details of the proposed establishment, and long- con- 
sideration was therefore necessary before the Government could decide upon its 
organization." When, at last, this was done. Professor Henry was picked out as 
better fitted than any other man in the country to be placed at the head of the 
Smithsonian Institution. He was asked to become secretary and chief director, 
and, after much thought, he accepted the position with " reluctance, fear, and 
trembling." 

He undertook his new duties with a great deal of earnestness and enthusiasm, 
and it is due to him more than to any other person that the nation has to-day so 
excellent and perfect an institution to carry out Mr. Smithson's will. Professor 
Henry drew up a scheme for the regents — who are governors of the Institution 
appointed by the United States Government — which was cordially- adopted and 
has been in use ever since. It is therefore his idea that the Institution takes up 
no work done by any other institution, and, confining itself to its own special line, 
is devoted in the best possible waj^ to increasing and diffusing- knowledge. As 
soon as any other department of the Government was ready to continue any of the 
researches of the Institution with a prospect of success, he turned them over to it, 
so that the Smithsonian mig-ht be always free to put its labor into new and unique 
fields. There are no collections in it that could be placed in another department, 
and it carries on no work similar to that of anj^ other national institution. Thus, 
it keeps ever pushing onward to increase the sum of human knowledge— which it 
scatters without cost to all who wish to learn from it. 

The London Times said a short time ago that the Smithsonian Institution 
afforded a better course of ethnological teaching — the study of the human races 
based on primitive relics— than can be had anywhere else in the world. In a bus- 
iness point of view, the Institution has been managed with great skill and success. 
While Professor Henry was shaping its policy and deciding upon its object, 
making- rare collections, pushing- investig-ations, and raising- building-s in which to 
keep them, its finances were so managed that all his plans have been matured and 



3G6 One Hundj'ed Famous Amet'icans. 

many thousand dollars of the fund still preserved. While engaged in the great 
labors of this position, Professor Henry also carried on much other scientific 
work. At different times he held the office of president in both the American Asso- 
ciation for the Advancement of Science and the National Academy of Sciences. 
His writings were also kept up meanwhile, and were published in the famous sci- 
entific paper, Snh'man''s Journal, and other leading periodicals. In addition to 
them, he prepared the reports of the Smithsonian Institution, which are among the 
most useful and important papers on education i^ublished in this country. 

In the latter years of his life he was at the head of the Lighthouse Board, and 
then brought forward some valuable improvements hi American sea-lights and 
beacons ; and when the Signal Service was started his knowledge and skill were 
of the greatest help. No one else was so often and so regularly consulted as he 
by the Government on all questions where the knowledge of a scientist was neces- 
sary. He originated the idea of using the telegraph for sending out the weather 
reports to different parts of the country from the Observation Bureau at Wash- 
ing-ton, and put it in operation at the Institution soon after he became connected 
with it. His services to the Government in many capacities, especially in that of 
a member of the Lighthouse Board — where his experiments saved it hundreds of 
thousands of dollars — were entirely free. His salaiy was paid from the Smith- 
sonian bequest, and he never asked the Government for the payment of a dollar for 
all the work he did for it. 

This is but one case of many that showed the high principles that ruled liis 
life. His labors were devoted entirely to the cause of science and education — for 
the good of the world ; he worked without thinking of making money for him- 
self, and although he was placed in a position where he had great temptations 
constantly offered him to lend the use of his name to merchants and manufacturers 
as an advertisement, there was never the shadow of a suspicion resting upon him. 

Professor Henry was born in Albany, New York, in about the year 1797. He 
died at Washington, May 13, 1878. 

While Joseph Henry was laboring in the Smithsonian Institution, one of 
the most noted scientific men in the regukir employ of the Government was 
Matthew Fouiitaine Maury. He was what is called a hydrographer — 
that is, one who draws maps and makes explorations of the sea, lakes, and other 
waters, with their adjacent shores. 

Professor Maury was about eight years younger than Professor Henry, and had 
been in the United States Navy from the time he was about nineteen years old. 
He entered as a midshipman in the stanch new Government frigate Lafayette, that 
carried the great French general — the nation's visitor — back to his native land. 



3Iattheiv Fountaine Maury, 



36*; 



After the vessel had parted with her distinguished g-uest she made a voyage 
to the Pacific, and after that young- Maury made a trip around the globe in the 
United States vessel Vincennes. Already he began to closely study the sea and 
the ships that sail thereon, and wrote a " Treatise on Navigation," which was so 
valuable that a number of editions of it sold. 

In 1836, when he was thirty j^ears old, he was raised to the rank of lieutenant, 
and was appointed to the South Sea exploring- expedition, in charge of Commodore 




Matthew Fountaine Maury. 

Wilkes. But meeting with an accident that made him lame, lie had to give up 
this prospect and leave the sea service. Then he Mas juit in charge of the Depart- 
ment of Sea-charts and Instruments at Washington, and he found new duties that 
made up for the loss his misfortune had cost him. After awhile this Avas com- 
bined with the Washington Observatory, and Lieutenant Maury was placed at the 
head of both. 

His labors here were careful, systematic, and far-reaching ; they were to ex- 
amine the reports of vessels and Special cruises, to direct observations on currents, 



368 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

tides, and soundiiij^-s, to carry on scientific experiments and investig-ations, and to 
I'ullill many other duties for wliich few men in the world have the ability of mind. 
He performed them all so well that he soon rose to eminent rank among- the 
learned men of his time, and was acknowledged at home and abroad to he doing- 
a work of untold benefit to tlie connnerce of the world. From tlie actual reports 
of vessels and si)ecial cruises, he made his well-known and useful " Physical Ge- 
og-raphy of the Sea," with observations of ocean winds and currents. His next 
important undertaking was preparing and publishing his views on the Gulf Stream, 
ocean currents, and great circle-sailing-, which have g-enerally proved to be well 
grounded. 

It was his idea to call the meeting of the General Maritime Conference, 
whicli was held at Berlin, Prussia, in 1853. This was a gathering- of men 
belonging- to the different nations of the world, who by experience and study could 
bring vaUiabk; information in regard to navigation. The recommendation that 
merchant and war vessels should keep an absti-act i-ecord called the vessel's " log," 
was nuide at this meeting, as a plan that would be of great service to maritime 
science. It has been probably one of the most important customs ever taken up in 
the history of navigation. Lieutenant Maury's " Physical Geography of the Sea 
and its Meteorolog-3^ " is so valuable a work that it is looked upon as a standard 
authority. It has been rcnnsed and enlarged several times to take in the new 
(liscovei-ies made, and holds an important place among the best woi'ks of its kind 
that have evei' been issued. 

Two years after the conference at Berlin, he was made Commander of the 
United States Nav3^ But, being' a Southerner, when the Civil War broke out — 
six years later — he g-avc up the post and became commodore in the navy of the 
Confederates. 

After the war, he became a Professor of Physics in the Virg-inia Militarj^ In- 
stitut(\ He was highly honored for his learning and the services it rendered to 
scienc(\, and lu'side being a member of many of the chief scientific societies of this 
coimtry and Europe, many high testimonials were given him by foreig-n g-overn- 
ments. 

Pi'ofessor Maury was bo in in Spottsylvania County, Virguiia, January 14, 
■•,806. He died at Lexington, Virg-inia, Februar^^ 1, 1873. 

As our countryman, Benjamin Thompson, deserves a place among g-reat Eu- 
ropeans, so also are there many foreigners who, having made this their adopted 
rountry, have done great work here and take rank along- with the most famous 
of native Americans. 

Of these was one of the most important men of this century, the Swiss 



Louis John Rudolf Agassi z. 



369 



scientist, Louis John Rudolf Agassiz. He studied and understood the 
powers, the causes, and the laws of things, and more than that, he made the study 
of science popular. He found people who were willing- enough to admire or 
wonder at a glacier or a fossil, but few who thought of studying about them — 
how they are caused, what they are, what they do, and what they become. He 
found people who would read of these things, look at them, talk about them, 
but never think about them, or actually study them. So he clearly showed 
such people how little they knew of science, or appreciated it ; and, at the same 




Louis John Rudolf Agassiz, 

time, he interested them in the great subject and led them to respect those who 
devote their lives to it. 

Mr. Agassiz received a careful education. He was fond of stud.y, and almost 
without knowing it, he laid the foundation for becoming a scientist while he was a 
boy and a young man, studying in the schools and universities of Switzerland and 
Germany, and, later, in Vienna. He w^as deepl}" in earnest ; he thought as well as 
studied ; he traveled and observed. To Mr. Agassiz, to observe meant to use his 
eyes and all the faculties behind them every time he looked at anything. He was 
young when he became famous for his knowledge of fossil and fresh-water fish, 
from a work written in Latin and published before he was twenty-five years old. 



370 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

About a 3^ear after this was completed, he became Professor of Natural Historj^ 
or Zoology, at Neufchatel, near his native town. 

About this time he also began to publish some works about the fishes of the 
past and present in Central Europe, which he had been studying for several years 
while on vacation-tramps through many countries. His books were read by some 
of the leading scientists of the Continent, and man^^ of the additions and new ar- 
rangements in the species, orders, and classes of fishes that his discoveries led him 
to make, were accepted as decidedl^^ ahead of the classifications of Cuvier and 
other older writers. He also became one of the most important contributors to 
the scientific journals, setting forth new and valuable ideas and recent knowledge 
upon fishes and upon geology. Meanwhile he became interested in glaciers, and 
traveled a great deal to study them, and at the same time to investigate the nat- 
ural history of past ages as he found it in fossils. His success in this ; and two 
important new works upon glaciers that he brought out added still more to his 
fame and brought him before the whole world. 

In 1846 he came to this country to lecture in Boston, and to fill a commission 
from the King of Prussia to examine the geologj^ and natural histor3' of the United 
States. At that time Mr. Agassiz did not think of making his home here, but he 
became at last so attached to this countrj^ that the richest offers of the monarchs 
of Europe could not induce him to leave it. The people here found him delightful 
company and a vevy able and agreeable teacher. So, the next year, the Lawrence 
Scientific School was founded at Cambridge by Abbott Lawrence, the great Bos- 
ton merchant, as a branch of Harvard University, and the distinguished Swiss 
scientist was asked to accept the professorship. The Prussian Government re- 
leased him and he accepted. 

He was then forty years old, a man of courteous manners, generous and honest 
feelings, at work for the highest use of his profession, not for himself. In addition 
to his teaching, he kept on with his study and investigation, sharing what he 
found out with any who wished to learn from him both by lecturing and in writ- 
ings. He was always at work, patient and persevering against any disappoint- 
ments, for his life was not all on the smooth road. He used to say, "I cannot 
understand how anybody should be idle, or should have time hang on his hands. 
There is never a moment, except when I am asleep, that I am not jo^'full^^ occu- 
pied." 

One time, when he was very busy studying out some deep question of zoology, 
he received a letter from the West, offei'ing him a large sum for a course of 
popular lectures on Natural History ; he sent back word : " I cannot afford to 
waste my time making money." There were a great many people surprised 
when this answer was made public ; but it helped to arouse a new and different 



Arnold Henry Guyot. 371 

interest in liis work. Men of other pursuits looked to see what there could be in 
scientific study and investig-ation, and in making- the results known to others, 
which meant more than could he reckoned in money value. While looking- they 
became interested, and so a wide, popular interest and understanding- of the 
great works of nature beg-an to spread over the whole country. Professor Ag-as- 
siz's lectures were attended and his books were read by thousands of men and 
women who never before thoug-ht of science ; and many more people than formerly 
beg-an not only to take up the study in the true spirit, but to contribute money 
and labor to its advancement. 

At ditferent times Mr. Ag-assiz made tours throug-h various parts of this coun- 
try, and into the Amazon region of South America, making the discovery of many . 
fishes before unknown, and writing a book on his " Journey in Brazil," as well as 
a much larger work of several volumes on " Contributions to the Natural History 
of the United States." 

Professor Agassiz's theory of the formation of the world and the develop- 
ment of the vegetable and animal kingdoms differed from the idea of evolution 
which is most generally believed, and when, in the latter years of his life, he be- 
came a believer in God, and an earnest Christian, he felt fully convinced that 
science and the Christian religion fully agree. 

Louis Agassiz was born at Moltier, Switzerland, May 28, 1807. He died in 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, December 14, 1873. 

In the year 1848 Professor Agassiz persuaded his friend and countryman, 
Arnold Henry Guyot, to come to the United States, and in a short time he 
also made this his adopted country. As a scientist and as a teacher, he soon united 
his interests so thoroughly with those of our people that he is commonly spoken 
of as the American geographer. 

These two Swiss scholars had been friends for a long time ; they were ot the 
same age, and had become acquainted while students at Carlsruhe, long before. 
With a strong regard for each other, and a common interest in physical science, 
they had kept up their friendship through many changes and long separations, 
and at last, when they were settled near together again, in a foreign land, they 
had a great deal of happy companionship, until Professor Agassiz died, twenty- 
five years after his illustrious friend came here. 

Guyot first studied theology, and in addition took up physics, meteorology, 
chemistry, mineralogy, zoology, and botany. He was scarcely thirty years ola 
when the University of Berlin made him a Doctor of Philosophy, and after that he 
spent five years of very deep and severe study at Paris, traveling in the summer 
to France, Belgium, Holland, and Italj^ to further push his studies in science, 



372 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

For nearly ten years after that he was a Professor of History and Physical 
Geog-raphy in the school at Neufchatel, where years before he had been a student. 
The political revolution in 1848 broke up this academy, and it was then, when his 
powers were in their prime, that he was induced to come to the United States. 
At first, of course, he went to Cambridg-e, Massachusetts, where Professor Agas- 
siz was living- ; but after he had delivered some lectures and become somewhat 
known, he was wanted in other places. The Massachusetts Board of Education 
invited him to teach their teachers the best methods of giving lessons in g-eogra- 
phy, and after that the Smithsonian Institution engaged him to find out about the 
height and physical structure of the Allegheny Mountain system. 

After he had been here about seven j^ears he became a Professor of Physical 
Geog-raphy at Princeton Colleg-e, New Jersey, which chair he held during- the rest 
of his life. But, while teaching there, he also kept up his studies and writing-s, and 
delivered many courses of scientific lectures. Guyot's Primary, Intermediate, and 
Physical Geographies and his larg-e set of wall maps are pretty w^ell known to all 
boys and girls in school, and his name is also familiar, with that of President Bar- 
nard, of Columbia College, as joint editor with him of Johnson's " Universal En- 
cyclopedia." Besides these g-reat works, he also gathered his lectures into sev- 
eral other valuable books on science. He was the first person who found the 
exact height of Mount Washing-ton and also of the Green Mountains, and the 
Black Mountains in North Carolina. 

Professor Guyot was born near NeufchAtel in Switzerland, September 28, 1807. 
He died at Princeton, New Jersey, February 8, 1884. 

The two greatest botanists of this country w^ere educated for physicians. 
Natives of tlie same State — New York — they were friends and fellow-w^oi'kers for 
many years. The elder man was John Torrey. He began to study plant life 
in the regions near New York City when he was quite young, and at the ag-e of 
twenty-one published his first book. From that time till he was past middle life 
he devoted himself to discovering- and classifying- the flora of this country. There 
were then a countless number of wild flowers and wood plants, even in the most 
thickly settled parts of the land, that were unnamed and whose very exist- 
ence was unknown. The people of the United States did not know — and had no 
books from which to learn — the flora even of their own counties ; and it was this 
want that Dr. Torrey set himself to fill. He went out, hunted up his specimens, 
analyzed them, classified them, and carefully describing each in its place as he 
found them, he prepared a series of thorougiil^^ scientific botanies, first of the 
Northern United States, and then of all North America. Of course they did not 
include everything at first, but they opened the way for perfection and did a g-reat 



Asa Oray. 373 

deal to establish the new, natural theories and methods of classifying- in place of 
the old, artificial ones. Other workers who have come after Professor Torrey have 
seemed to do more and have gained a greater name than he ; but it is to him that 
the first honors in the science of botany in America most truly belong-, though, 
as with all pioneers, the results of his labors show more in the work of those who 
followed him than in his own. 

Meanwhile he was also Professor of Natural Sciences at West Point, which he 
left to teach chemistr}^ and botany in the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 
New York City. During- most of this time he was also professor at Princeton 
College, and, later, became chief assa.yer in the United States Assay Office in New 
York. He was one of the founders of the New York Lyceum of Natural History, 
and wrote valuable papers for its Annals, as well as for Silliman's Jouj^nal and 
man^^ other of the leading scientific magazines of the day. 

Professor Torrey was born August 15, 1796, in New York City, where he died 
March 10, 1873. 

After several years of research, discovery, and writing. Professor Torrey 
found a valuable helper in a young medical graduate, Asa Grtiy. He was an 
enthusiastic lover of botany, and had decided to give up the idea of becoming- a 
physician to devote himself, under Dr. Torrey, to the science of plants and flowers. 
The student and teacher soon became fast friends and fellow-workers. They 
labored tog-ether on the "Flora of North America," which was the most impor- 
tant book on botany that had ever been published in America and placed its au- 
thors at once among the leading- scientists of the country. It came out in the year 
1838, when Dr. Torrey was forty-two years old and Mr. Gray was twenty-eight. 
The younger man had brought out one book on the " Elements of Botany " a few 
years before, and from that time on he has labored continuously in the same field, 
lecturing meanwhile to the students at Harvard College, visiting- Europe, corre- 
sponding- with the great French Academy of Sciences, and acting- as one of the re- 
gents of the Smithsonian Institution. 

He retired from the lecture-room at Harvard in 1873 — after thirty years of 
service — and has since devoted his time to new work in science — instead of teach- 
ing — and to the care of the fine herbarium of the university. Professor Gray is 
probably the most famous botanist this country has ever had, and it is scarcely 
possible to judge of the great value his labors have been to us and to the cause of 
science throughout the world. His books are manuals for reference and school- 
books for classes of almost every grade. His name is familiar to every lover of 
nature in the United States and to all the scientists in the world. 

Asa Gray was born at Paris, New York, November 18, 1810. 



374 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

It seems odd to many people that Eliliii Burritt, one of the most learned 
men of his time, was a hard-working* mechanic, and never either stndied or 
taught in any college in his life. Yet it is true, and while he was master of more 
than fifty languages, he was at the same time a most excellent blacksmith. 

He was born into a large famil^^ of not very wealthy Connecticut people ; so he 
had to take his chances for an education with the rest of the children. New Eng-- 
land bo3' s in those days Avere allowed to go to the district school three months in the 
year until they were sixteen years old. 

The untimely death of Mr. Burritt made Elihu lose his last quarter of schooling- 
and go to work to help support the family. He bound himself to the blacksmith's 
trade until he should be twenty-one. 

There were heroes of the Revolution in almost every American family when 
Elihu was a boy, for that was when this century was very young-; and when they 
met at his father's house he used to stand in the corner and listen eagerl}^ to their 
stories. He was delighted with their accounts of bravery and warfare, and when 
he began to read his taste led him to look for reading- of that kind. He found it 
in the Old Testament histories, and the Bible became his favorite book. After he 
had read and reread that, he turned to the town library. By the time he was 
sixteen he had read every book of history it held, so he next took up the poetry. 
He found these books so delig-htful that he would not read more than a page a 
day, for fear they would be g-one too soon. They are grand old books, although 
there are boys and girls who call them dull. They are Thomson's " Seasons," 
Young-'s " Night Thoughts," Pollock's '' Course of Time," Shakespeare's plays, 
and Milton's poems. While young Burritt was carefully reading these volumes 
he was also working- at his trade, and doing- so well that he soon became a first- 
class blacksmith. 

During his apprenticeship he had to work from ten to twelve hours a day at 
the forge ; but while he blew the bellows and poked up the fire he would use his 
mind working out such problems as this — not making a single figure : 

" How many yards of cloth three feet in width, cut into strips an inch wide, 
and allowing- half an inch at each end for the lap, would it require to reach from 
the centre of the earth to the surface, and how much would it cost at a shilling a 
yard ? " 

At night he would carry home in his mind several such problems worked out, 
and his brother, who had made his way throug-h Williams College, would figure 
them out upon a slate, to see if Elihu had obtained the correct answer. He was 
seldom in error. 

B}^ the time his apprenticeship was over he had a greater desire to study than 
ever before, so he celebrated his freedom by spending the next winter with a 



Elihu Burritt. 375 

teacher in mathematics. Reread *' Virgil" in Latin by himself for a pastime. 
Then he took up French, and grew more fond of study and quicker to learn with 
every new undertalving. In the spring he returned to the sliop, and did the work 
of two men at the forg-e to make up for his "winter of luxur3'," as he called it. 
In tliis way he kept on working- and studying, carrying a book in his hat and im- 
proving every odd moment until its contents were in his mind. 

In a few years he became widely known as a great scholar ; but he kept to his 
trade for two reasons. One was, that with the large amount of studying he was 
doing, hard manual labor was good for his health ; and the other was, that he 
wished to show that a person could be a scholar and a good mechanic. Beside, the 
work at the forge gave him a living and furnished him with books. 

Mr. Burritt was a bachelor, and kept to his quiet life of work and study for 
many years, but he was also very much interested in the happiness and well-being 
of others. He strongly believed that the world should be ruled by peace — that 
is, by what is called the "doctrine of universal brotherhood." He lectured and 
wrote books on this subject, and through them became very widely known. His 
first book, " Sparks from the Anvil," came out when he was thirty-eight years 
old. Seven years later he published another, called " Thoughts on Things at 
Home and Abroad." He lived in Europe, studying, writing, and lecturing, for 
several years, and at one time he was the United States Consul at Birmingham in 
England. In 1865 he brought out the book, " A Walk from John O'Groat's to 
Land's End." Interested in man^^ matters of public welfare, he was the chief 
advocate of the ocean penny postage, and in later years worked earnestly for tem- 
perance. His writings were in the peace cause and on other subjects, and alto- 
gether make about thirty volumes. Ten years before his death his lectures and 
speeches were collected and put in book-foi-m, and the year before he died " Chips 
from Man}^ Blocks " was given to the world. 

Mr. Burritt's great learning was due more to the fact that he studied earnestly 
and wisely to gather knowledge, and wasted no time about it, than to any special 
talents. When be wanted to master Greek, he obtained a Greek book and a dic- 
tionary and went right to work, keeping at it until he gained his object. Then he 
was ready to read and enjo^^ Greek authors, and was also better prepared to take 
up another study. 

He was very highly thought of by his frie-nds, and in public he was much es- 
teemed for his learning and good service to his Government and mankind. The 
two great objects of his life were self-improvement and doing good to others. 

Mr. Burritt was born December 8, 1810, at New Britain, Connecticut, where 
he died March 7, 1879. 



HISTORIANS AND NOVELISTS. 



FOREMOST among American writers stands the most brilliant historian 
the country has ever produced, Williiiiu Hickliiig^ Prescott. His 

" Ferdinand and Isabella," " Conquest of Mexico," " Conquest of Peru," and the 
unfinished work of the " History of the Reigii of Philip II. of Spain," make up 
a library of ten volumes, which have been ranked fi'om the first with the best 
histories ever written. He is said to have had in his writing almost if not 
quite all the qualities that make a perfect historian — " a spirit of thorough 
research, which never rests satisfied until every field has been explored, and 
every accessible source of information consulted and exhausted, an impartiality 
which comes from a high and scrupulous sense of justice and unswerving 
devotion to truth," In these great qualities, without which no writer of 
events of the past or the present can be truly called a historian, Prescott has 
never been surpassed, and perhaps never equalled, by any writer, of whatever age 
or country. His stjde — that is, the language he uses — is bright, clear, and pleas- 
ant, becoming eloquent and lucid in the telling of stirring events. His works came 
out years apart, and every time a volume appeared people felt a double interest in 
it, because they knew that the accurate, faithful labor that had been put in it was 
all done under a great disadvantage. It was known far and wide that Mr. Pres- 
cott was partially blind, and if his writings had been far less worthy in them- 
selves the}^ would have been warmly received by the public, 

Mr, Prescott was a man of good education. He had been well taught in the 
best school in New England when he was a lad, and had entered the sophomore 
class at Harvard College when he was fifteen years old. This was in 1811. Pres- 
cott was about the age of Professor Joseph Henry, George Peabody, and several 
others, whose careers, beginning with the early part of this century, have left an 
impression that will far outlast its length. He did well in his studies, especially 
in languages, history, and literature ; but during the junior 3'ear a hard crust of 
bread, thrown in frolic and accidentally hitting him in the left eye, marred the hap- 
piness of his whole life in a moment. After some weeks he was able to take up 



William Hickling Frescott. 377 

his studies again and the eye looked as well as before, but its sig-ht was gone for- 
ever. This was a grief to the bright and lively student, and a severe shock to his 
whole system, but he resolved not to let it hinder him from becoming a good 
scholar ; he kept on Avith his course, and after graduating with his class began to 
study law. But being in a weak condition from the accident, the one eye could 
not stand the double strain, and a disease set in which made him entirely blind for 
some weeks. He bore this new trial with cheerfulness and courage, but he could 
not keep it from alfecting his health. A trip to Europe was made to give him a 




Wn^LiAM Hickling Prescott. 

change, but it did little good, and when he came home he made up his mind that he 
should have to give up the law. But still he was not discouraged ; he decided to 
study literature and become a man of letters, although he had to spend a large 
part of his time in a darkened room, his feeble eye scarcely being able to stand 
light enough for some one to read to him. 

Gradually, however, he grew better ; then he married, and the year after he be- 
gan a regular course of study by having some one read aloud to him. His plan was 
to take up the works of the best English prose writers, from Roger Aschami to his 
own time, and afterward the best works in French and Italian literature. By care 
and determination he vv^as able to keep on this time. In a few years he began to 



S78 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

stud}' the Spanisli lai\ij;-uag-e and literature, and it was alter lie opened this "■ Span- 
ish canipaig"n, which ended only with his life " — as his friend, George Tieknor, said 
— that he decided to write the histories of the Spaniaixls in tlieii' own country and 
the New World, Patiently, faitlifully, in spite of hindrances, he undertook what a 
thoroughly strong- nuin might have heen fearful of, antl he did it so pei'feetly that 
his name was placed at once among- the leading- writers of history in all ages. 
The trouble with his ej^es never entirely passed away, and nuich of his study, re- 
search, and the writing itself had to he done thi-ough some one else. Yet none 
of these disadvantag-es appear in his works, and his fame rests on no other claim 
than g-reat merit, 

Mr. Prescott's hooks are distinguished for vividly representing characters and 
events without making- them either more important or less so than others with 
which they ai'e connected. An American critic says : " Prescott presents a true 
exhibition of the period of time he has chosen for his subject; he makes the 
reader understand its peculiar character, i-ealize its passions and pi-ejudices, and 
see it at once with the eye of a contemporary, and judg-e it without any bias. He 
took old docmnents written by many jiersons who looked at the men and events 
of their time from different points of view — a host of testimonials from numy 
sources — and carefully weighed them and worked them in tog-ether till lliey fur- 
nished to his mind a fair and unbiassed history. Then, that he g'ave to the 
world. 

He was never in Spain, yet his stories and descriptions are as vivid as if he came 
from a long- line of Spanish descent and his whole life had been passed or. the his- 
toric spots he depicts. Most of his work was done in his quiet, happy liome in 
Boston. A fortune was spent in rare books and copies of precious old manuscripts 
and all the new nuiterial and imi)ortant records he could find. These were rerul to 
him by faithful fi-iends and capable secretaries, and as he listened, their contci.ts 
made an image on his mind — he seemed to have a quicker mental eye because of 
his feeble real ones — and as he went about the house and walked the Boston 
streets, he was in Spain, in Mexico, in Peru, feeling- himself to be one of the com- 
panies described in the musty old chronicles. He formed his own fair judgment 
of the principal actors by sifting- and weighing- the opposing- statements al)Out 
them. He had the great power of historical imagination. He i-ealized to him- 
self the characters and events of ages long- past ; and then he reproduced them for 
others in such easy, clear, and picturesque narrative that his readers follow him 
through pag-e after pag-e, with a delight that only few novelists can awaken ; 
the}'^ forget that these pleasing- books have cost years of pain and labor to 
their author. Added to all this, Mr. Prescott has the rare quality of leaving 
his readers to take their own view of the tales he tells, when most historians, even 



George Ticknor. 379 

the best, cany their own feeUng-s into their work ; and when 3'ou have finislied 
their books, you have their view of the facts, not your own. Of the times and the 
cliaracters of Prescott's histories ,you are free to form 3'our own opinion. 

Some thi-ee or four years after his last finislied worlv was publisfied, Mr. Pres- 
cott went a.^'aiii to Europe. He was tlien as famous abroad as at liome, and was 
received willi tlie highest lionors wherever he went. At tliis time he was in niid- 
dle life, being- ahnost fifty- five years okl. His fine presence, manly character, and 
courteous manner made liini liked personally as much as he was honored for his 
great name. His face— we are told — was singularly bright, genial, and attract- 
ive. Those about him could not help catching his smile, and his disposition was 
most friendly, generous, and kind. His figure was tall, well formed ; his hair was 
light brown, and his complexion was clear and handsome. 

He was enrolled among the members of nuiny I'oi-eigii societies, who do not 
open their doors even to scholars unless they have really added to human knowl- 
edge in their litei-ai-y laboi's. 

Returning home, the industrious author took up his work again, this time on 
the " History of Philip II. " Regularly he walked five miles every day, composing 
in his mind as he walked. Then he went into his large library — where the light 
was cai-efully regulated not to tax his eyes — and spent five hours in work. He 
wrote with his stylus — a cunning contrivance of his own to overcome his lack of 
e3'esight— what he had composed in his walk, had it copied by his seci'etary, and 
then read over to him, while he attentively corrected it. To refresh his mind, two 
hours a day were usually spent in having novels read to him, and the rest of his 
time was given to his family, his fi'iends, and outside interests. 

He had a generous, kindly nature, and always gave away one-tenth of his am- 
ple income for the benefit of others less fortunate than himself. 

After three volum(\s of the " History of Philip II." wei-e published, and before 
the third came out he had an attack of apoplexy, that was fatally renewed again 
while he was at work on the fourth volume— and the rest of the work was never 
finished. 

William H. Prescott was born at Salem, Massachusetts, May 4, 179G. He died 
at Boston, January 28, 1859. 

In life and in literature Mr. Prescott's name is linked with that of his illustrious 
friend, Georg-e Ticknor. They were friends, nntives of the same State, resi- 
dents of the same city, of about the same age, both famous Spanish scholars and 
historians for that country, and after Pi-escott's death Ticknor wrote the story 
of his life in one of the most interesting biographies that has ever been published. 

George Ticknor has also a place all his own among American writers. It was 



380 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

won by his " History of Spanisli Literature," a work of only tliree volumes, but so 
perfect of its kind that the sharpest critics in all countries united in its praise, and 
in placing- its author in the foremost ranks among- the prose writers of the world. 
It was translated into the lang-uages of Europe and is the standard authority upon 
literature in the Spanisli tongue. " It is," said a critic, " one of the most solidly 
valuable works ever given to a high department of letters." 

Beginning- with the time when he was a boj" preparing- for Dartmouth Colleg-e, 
Mr. Ticknor's whole life was devoted to learning- ; he graduated with credit, was 
admitted to the bar when he was twenty years old, but continued his studies in 
litei'ature instead of pi*acticing. Four years were spent in Europe, at Gottingen — 
where Prescott and Motlej^ also studied— at Rome, Pai-is, Madrid, Edinburgh, and 
London, where he had the acquaintance and often the cordial friendship of the 
most distinguished people in Europe. His desire for information and abilit}' for 
using it, as well as his powers of thought, were remarkable, even among- remark- 
able men. 

On coming- back to America, in the year 1819, he was appointed Professor of 
French and Spanish in Languag-e and Literature at Harvard University. 

The object of his stay abroad had been to fit himself to be active and useful at 
home ; and with rare learning- and accomplishments, cultivated tastes, uncommon 
social g-ifts, ready kindness, and active energ-y he returned to take an important 
place in Boston society. Though he was then but twentj-seven years old, he be- 
came at once a man of weig-ht both among- the cultivated and literarj^ people and 
among- the public-spirited business men of the city. For the college and his work 
in it he was always full of zeal. His lectures not onl3' held the interest of his 
classes while he was talking-, but they influenced the students a g-reat deal toward 
devoting themselves to g-ood learning-. 

Among all matters of public interest in Boston Mr. Ticknor was most active 
in the work of providing public libraries. About four years after his retiu-n from 
Europe, he was chosen trustee of the Boston Athena?um, and probably did more 
than any other one person to enlarg-e the scope and extend the usefulness and es- 
tablish the pennanent success of that institution. He spent a great deal of time 
during- one winter in working for this. He asked for subscriptions, interested peo- 
ple of influence in its success, and prepared lists of books to be added to those 
already in its collection. 

But his greatest work of this kind was undertaken for the Boston Public Li- 
brary about twenty-five years later. He had then returned from a second visit in 
Europe, during which he had learned more than he ever knew before about the 
value of the great public libraries abroad— having- beg-un to prepare for his '' His- 
tory of Spanish Literature." As soon as he found that Senator Edward Everett 



George Tickno?\ 38 L 

and others were interested to establish something- of the same sort in America — in 
Boston — he came forward at once with his ripe schokirship and valuable aid to do 
all in his power to make it a great, well-planned, and liberal institution. Other 
men gave up their theories about it for his, and the splendid gift in money of Mr. 
Joshua Bates enabled Professor Ticknor and his fellow-workers to found and or- 
ganize what is probably the greatest free library in this country. He was liberal 
toward it with mone.>' and books as well as in time and labor. His gift of Italian, 
Spanish, and Portuguese books and manuscripts and works upon the literature of 
those countries in other languages, with a fund to keep increasing the collection, 
places the Library, in this department, far ahead of any other in America, and 
i-anks it with some of the greatest of Europe. 

It was after fifteen years of devoted work that Professor Ticknor left his chair 
at Harvard, and the poet Longfellow took liis place. As soon as he was free, he 
started with his family on his second journey to Europe. He remained abroad 
for three j'ears, spcnuling a large part of the time in preparing to begin work on 
his History, visiting the great libraries, and collecting books and manuscripts for 
future use. 

On his return he made his home in Boston, and during the next ten years — from 
the time he was about forty-eight years old until he was nearly sixty— he was 
steadily occupied with his writing. As he labored on month after month and 
year after year, he still kept an active interest in public aflt'aii-s, and said little 
about his undertaking, though he was full of love and enthusiasm for it. When 
it was at last completed, it was so ably and so thoroughly done that the ground it 
covers wall never need to be gone over again, Mr. Ticknor's fame rests chiefly 
upon this and the " Life of Prescott," although he was also the editor of the 
" Remains of Nathaniel Appleton Haven," and the author of a " Life of Lafay- 
ette." He has, probably, the highest reputation for pui-e scholarship ever reached 
by any Amei'ican. 

In manners and m conversation most people found Mr. Ticknor reserved ; for, 
while he desired very nuich to be useful to liis f(>llow-men — and Avas — his culture was 
so far above the understanding of ordinary people that he had to keep his thouglits 
very much to himself. There were few men or women in the whole country who 
had anything like his attainments in learning; and the best in the nation 
were his friends and prized his acquaintance. Yet he did not hold himself aloof 
as a great man ; he loved people, was continually^ doing good, and felt the most 
tender compassion for the poor. He was a man of pure character, high inten- 
tions, and resolute will. He loved truth and right, distrusted fanatics and dema- 
gogues, and so hated baseness and corruption that strangers often thought him 
lofty and intolerant. 



382 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

His ^reat success as a scliolar was iliic lo luiviiig- a. thirst for kiiowlcili^c, ;i, \v- 
markablo moniory, and a hcalth.y, manly nature that was trained to dilif^-ence, 
self-control, :i I ul the hl.i;host respect loi- truth in every form. He was earnest, 
exact, unselfish, and laithfui, both as a scholar and as a gentleman. 

Professor Tickiior was born Aug-ust 1, \'V^\, in liostou, Massachusetts, where 
he died, Jaiuiary )l(], 1871. 

Al)oiit thirty years ag'o two new worivs of history were sent to the critic of 
the Kdinhur(jh Rcru'ir. One was " riiilip 11. ," by William H. Prescott, the 
other was entitled '' Tiu^ Rise of the Dutch llepul)lic,'* and was written by 
John Ijollirop I>lo(-U\y. ''They do g-reat honor to American literature," 
wi'otc the critic ; " and they would do honor to any literature in the world." 

Pi-escott was already known, and had ranked foi" years among- the gi'eatest of 
liistoi'ians ; but Motley was a new writer in that, lield. He was a Harvard gradu- 
ate, had been a student at fanu)iis old (lotitingen lTniv(>rsity, and had speid. sev- 
eral years more in travel and in studying law; he had {)ublished two romances, 
written a good many articles foi' some of the fii'st magazines in Amei-ica, and 
had (h)ne a number of other things without any marked success. But in about 
1850, wluMi he was over thirty-live years old, he found his true line of work when 
he resolved to write a history ol' Holland — a grand chaptei- in the world's annals 
tha t had never yet been well recorded . 

He soon left AuKM-ica, and spent several years in Europe, searching out old 
papers, ransacking libraries, and in evcvy way possible (inding out all that he 
could about the histoi-y of the Low Countries. After six years of laboi- the three 
vohnnes of the " Rise of the Dutch Republic " appeared in London. It was a 
great success from the lirst. 

The value of the information, and the style of the writing, as well as the 
thoughtful I'ellectJons of the author, were appriH'iaicHl at. oiuc. and Mr. Motley 
had the pleasure of finding himself ranked anmng the best histoj'ians of Euro])e 
and America. He was rt\i;ard(Hl as lu'xt to Prescott in his native land. Sex'eral 
editions were sold very soon, and it was translated iido the French, l)ut-ch, and 
German languages. 

Four years later he began to publish four nu)re volumes, Avhich wan\> a continu- 
ation of tlu* " Rise of t he Dutch Republic," and were entitled " The Histoi'y of 
the United Netherlands fiom the OiNith of William the Sileid. to the Synod of 
Dort." 

In this — writes Olivei* Wendell Holmes — the monunuMital work continued 
as nol)ly as it had begun. The facts had been slowly, (piietly gathered one by 
one, like pebbles from the empty channel of a brook. The style was lluent, ini- 



John Lothrop Motley. 



383 



pel. nous, Mbundant, impaliciil, as it were. . . . Soineiiincs lie lias faults. 
Ill places houses stron^-er lani,^uag'e than is iiecessjiry ; and every reader will not 
care to follow him throug-h all the details of diplomatic intrigues which he has, 
with such industry and sag-acity, brought to light fi-om the old manuscripts 
in which they had long laid hidden. But we turn a few pages, and we come to 
one of those descriptions which arrest us at once, and show him in his power and 
hrilliancy as a lilcrnry ai'tist. His chara-clers move befoi'e us witli the; features of 
life; we can see Elizabeth, or Philip, or Mauiice, not as a name connected with 




John Lothrop Motley. 

events, but as breathing- and acting human beings. To be loved or hated, ad- 
mired or despised, as if he or she were living- in our own limes. 

During- almost the whoU^ of the seven years while the second history was being 
brought out Mr. Moi-Uy was Minister plenipotentiary to Austria, and two years 
later, in 18G9,he was appointed Ambassador to England by President Grant; and 
although he held this office only a few months, he spent the remaining- seven years 
of his life in (Ireat ]>ritain. 

He was a cour-teous, easy-mannered, modest man, with an air of refinement 
and high breeding that was verj^. attractive. In public business— diplomacy— he 



384 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

was skillful, dig-nificd, and straig-htforward. As a scholar, he was earnest, Indus 
trious, faithful, and exceedingly able. The " Life of John of Bai'neveldt," which is a 
history of the causes and movements of the Thirty Years' War, rather than a biog- 
raphy of the great advocate of Holland, was published in 1874. " It is," said the 
London Quart erlij, "a fine and continuous story, of which the writer and the 
nation he celebrates have reason to be proud; a narrative which will remain a 
prominent ornament of American g-enius, while it has permanently eni-iched Eng- 
lish literature on this as well as on the other side of the Atlantic." 

On the last day of the year in which this work appeared occurred the death of 
Mrs. Motley, who had been "the pride of her husband's eai'lier yeai's, and the 
stay and solace of those which had so tried his sensitive spirit." It was a loss 
that broke his heart ; he came to America in the next j^ear, and his friends rallied 
round him with deepest love and devotion, but he was utterly broken, and in a 
few years he passed away, swiftly and suddenly. 

John Lothrop Motley was born April 15, 1814, at Dorchester, Massachusetts, 
near which town he died, May 39, 1877. 

The greatest writer of American history, CU'org-c Biiiicroft, was almost 
contemporaneous with the nineteenth centur}-, for ho was born in its first year. 
He was a Massachusetts boy, the son of a well-known Cong-regationalist clergy- 
man. At the age of thirteen he was sent to Harvard Colleg-e, where he was a 
brilliant and a hard-working' student. At the end of the course he graduated with 
some of the hig-hest honors, although his class had an unusual number of fine 
students. 

While he was in college Bancroft was especially interested in the wi-itings of 
many German authors, and when he graduated he went at once to Germany to 
perfect himself in that language, and to listen to the lecturers at some of the great 
universities. The German men of letters are probably the most industrious 
scholars in the world, and among- them Mr. Bancroft — who had loved studj^ all his 
life — became even more studious tliaii he had been before. At that time Goethe 
was in the prime of his powers, and all Germany was enthusiastic about him. 
The young American took the greatest interest in all he wrote, and was much in- 
fluenced by him in his ways of thinking. 

He stayed abroad for four .^-ears, and when he came back he Avas at once 
given a position as tutor in Harvard College. But he did not stay there long. 
He wanted to have a school of his own, where he could teach in nuicli the same 
way as classes are managed in Germany. Before long he had the chance to take 
charge of a school in Northampton, Massacbusetts. The people of this country 
were then so strongly prejudiced against new ways of teaching that Mr. Bancroft's 



George Bancroft. 385 

school was not very successful ; but he did good in it, and opened the way for 
Americans— in New England at least— to better understand the ideas of foreign 
teachers and writers. 

Mr. Bancroft's father wished him to become a minister of the Gospel like him- 
self ; but the son had now grown too much interested in teaching and in writing 
to want to take up any different work. He wrote a great deal for the papers, and 
when he was twenty-three ^ears old he published a small volume of poems. It 




George Bancroft. 

liad no great success, and he then stopped making verses and devoted himself to 
translating a valuable German historical work, written by one of his old teachers. 

This was his first step into the department of literature where he became among 
the greatest authors in the world. 

Meanwhile he became much interested in the politics of the dixy. He was a 
Democrat, though the greater part of the people in- Massachusetts at that lime 
belonged to the Whig party. When the Democratic President, Martin Van 
Buren, was elected, he appointed Mr. Bancroft Collector of the Fort of Boston, 
which is a very profitable position. Afterward, when Mr. Polk was President, 
Mr. Bancroft became Secretary of the Navy, He only held this position for a 



386 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

short time, but in that time he accomplished a great deal in getting the Govern- 
ment to found tlie Naval School at Annapolis and in improving the Astronomical 
Observatory at Washington. After he witlidrcw fi-om the Cabinet, he was at 
once sent to England as a special Minister from the United States Government, 
chiefly to make better terms with Great Britain about navigation. 

He was now very much interested in the histoiy of the United States. He 
had already written an elaborate " History of the Colonization of the United 
States of North America," which was published ten j^ears after his translation of 
the German work. Now he was anxious to take up the second period and study 
the records of the Revolutionary War. Through the courtesy of tlie British and 
French Govei-nments he had in London and Paris excellent opportunities to exam- 
ine many rare and valuable historical papers, and during the three years that he 
lived abroad a large part of his time was spent in getting ready to begin his his- 
tory of the great struggle for independence in America. Just before he left Eng- 
land the University of Oxford gave him the deg'ree of Doctor of Laws, which is 
an honor that that university has very rarely paid to an American. He made his 
home in New York, and for many years he refused all public office so that he 
might work the more faithfully on his great history. In 1852, after he had been 
back in this country for al)out three years, the first volume of the Revolution — 
which was the fourth of the history — came out. Then he went steadily on, still 
refusing public duties, until the ninth volume — which was next to the last one- 
was finished. 

Then he accepted the office of Minister to the Court of Berlin. It was at this 
time that he made for the United States a treaty with the North German Confed- 
eration, by which German immigrants who become naturalized American citizens 
ai'e not bound to keep their allegiance to the govermnent of their native country. 

In 1874 the tenth and last volume of Bancroft's complete *' History of the United 
States " was published, and the largest, most important work on the history of this 
country was given to the world. It ranks as one of the greatest histories ever 
written, is a standard authority in all countries, and has been translated into 
many of the European languages. It is especially popular in Germany. Soon 
after this edition was published the untiring author began to carefully revise 
his whole work, and in 1884 a complete new edition was brought out in six 
volumes. 

He had long ago ceased to belong to the Democratic part}^ having joined the 
Republicans as soon as that party was formed. He then for several years was a 
prominent representative of the United States abroad, and during that time he 
received many honors from learned men and societies in the countries which he 
visited. 



Richar-d Hildreth. 387 

Georg-e Bancroft was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, October 3, 1800. He 
died in Washington, D. C, January 17, 1891. 

While Mr. Bancroft was in EuroiDC, beginning* his long and careful researches 
for his " Revolution," Ricliartl Hildreth, a Massachusetts man, seven years 
younger than Bancroft, brought out a smaller and more condensed History of the 
United States, which still holds its place as one of standard authority, although 
it was finished almost sixty years ago. In the opinion of some critics it is the 
ablest work of its kind in American literature. Mr. Hildreth studied carefully all 
the means of information within liis reach, but he did not attempt to search out 
and examine original papers upon the extensive scale laid out by Mr. Bancroft. 
His work makes six volumes and tells the story of this country's affairs from the 
discovery of America to the close of the Sixteenth Congress in 1820. It was the 
great work of the author's life. He planned it when he was about twenty years 
old and a student at Harvard College, but almost a quarter of a century of his 
busy life passed before it was actually begun. Meanwhile he carried the project 
in his mind — while he was a lawyer, then as editor of one of the chief Whig- jour- 
nals in New England, on the health trip to the South, while he was publishing an 
anti-slavery novel, during the time that he was writing* a set of articles for the 
Atlas, in 1837, to defeat the scheme for annexing Texas to the United States, 
and through all his activity in politics to help along the election of President 
Harrison. 

About the time that this campaign was in progress Mr. Hildreth brought out 
an able review of the social, political, and economical aspects of slavery in the 
United States, called "Despotism in America." Then, being in bad health, he 
took a journey to British Guiana, living for three years in Georgetown, the capital. 
He there studied the philosophy of history, and wrote some papers on that sub- 
ject. " The Theory of Morals," and the "Theory of Politics ; or. An Inquiry into 
the Foundations of Governments and the Causes and Pi-ogress of Political Revo- 
lutions," which are able works of their kind, Avere written at that time. 

A few years after he returned the history was broug'ht out. As a work of ref- 
erence this history still remains as the best in our catalogues of works on Amer- 
ican history. The style is concise, the facts happily combined, the judgments gen- 
erality good ; and, while justice is done to our great men, there is everywhere to 
be seen an almost vindictive contempt of persons who have made themselves 
" great " by the arts of the demagogue. He was a bold, blunt, hard-headed, and 
resolute man, caustic in temper, keen in intellect, untiring in industry, and blessed 
with an honest horror of shams. His purpose was to write a history of the United 
States in which our fathers should be presented exactly as they were, " unbe- 



388 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

daubed with patriotic roug-e." The best judges here and abroad agree that he 
carried out his purposes with g-enuine success and Uterary merit, 

Richard Hildreth was born in Deerfiekl, Massachusetts, June 28, 1807. He 
died in Florence, Italj^ 1865. 

Mr. Bancroft and Mr. Hildreth, able and excellent as their work is, and fresh 
also as is much of its information, are greatly indebted to the almost-forgotten 
American historians who came before them. The}'" who chronicled the events 
which they saw, or first began to gather the records of the past and put them 
into the form of a narrative, paved the way for their greater successors and 
left for them much of the material for their noble tasks. First among* these 
early historians was David Ramsay. He was born in the middle of the last 
century, saw the Revolution and the War of 1812, and made the first United 
States history worthy of the name. He also wrote a '' History of South Caro- 
lina." Henry Lee — " Light-horse Hairy "- — who was half a dozen years ,> oiuiger 
than Ramsay, and died before the second war Avitli England, also left a valuable 
work of reference in his " Memoirs of the Southern Department of the United 
States." A g'eneration later, Timothy Flint wrote a " Condensed Geogi-aphy 
and History of the Western States in the Mississippi Valley," during the time 
that John Quincy Adams was sitting in the President's chair. 

Among other writers of American historv who have mei'ited some fame is 
Benson J. Lossing, who was boi-n in New York State in 1813, and wrote over a 
dozen volumes, some of which, especially the "Field-Book of the Revolution" 
and the '' History of the War of 1812," are valuable works. Francis Parkman, 
a Boston man, who was born in 1823, also has had a great and well-deserved 
popularity for his " Conspiracy of the Pontiac," the " Jesuits of America," 
the "Discovery of the Great West," the " Pioneers of France in tlie New Woiid," 
and other works of history that required great labors among uni)ublished records, 
and still remain the only works of any note on these subjects of American history. 
John Gorham Palfrey, a Boston clergyman, born in 17'Jfi, also Avrote a valuable 
history of New England, although most of his works were on theology. 

Among the few other historians of this country who have not made their books 
from the works of these authors is James G. Blaine, whose " History of Twenty 
Years in Congress " has been the labor of man}- years, and is baeed upon state 
papers and the personal experience of the writer and his associates. General 
Grant's " Memoirs " is probably the most famous work on the Civil War, and the 
book of "Memoirs of John C. Fremont" contains a great deal of information 
about the opening up of the West and the con(piest of California. 



Washington Irving. 389 

The historians and the novelists are linked tog-ether because they both write 
of the characters and events of life— the historian sets forth the plain facts, the 
novelist colors them with his imag'ination. History is the record of facts, fiction 
is the record of the imagination ; and these two, either separate or combined, 
make all the literature of the woi-ld. There is much imagination in every great 
history, and there is much of the history of life in all fiction, especially in novels. 
Yet in character the work of an historian is quite different from that of the writer 




WAsmNGTON Irving. 

of fiction, and it is very rarely that any land has been g-ifted with a g-enius who, 
like our Washington Irving, stands as a link between the two. 

He was not only a writer of history and fiction, but of fictitious history— im- 
ag-inary stories of the richest humor, based upon most careful and painstaking- 
researches into the facts of history. It was in the year 1809, when he was an at- 
tractive young- man of twenty-six— and when Prescott was still at school and 
Bancroft was a little fellow just out of dresses — that he broug-ht out his first 
book—" A History of New York from the Beg-inning- of the World to the End of 
the Dutch Dynasty, by Dietrich Knickerbocker." It was a burlesque chronicle, 
full of humor, but written in so quiet a vein that some people took it for real his- 
tory. It was perfect in its way, and although a good many of the old Dutch 



390 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

families were rather offended at the waj^ he made fan of their pecuHarities, critics 
g-ave it hearty praise. " It is,'' says an American writer, " tlie most judiciously 
audacious work of humor in our literature." 

This was his first book, but not his first literary work. He had chosen writ- 
ing for his profession soon after he left school— which was when he was about six- 
teen years old ; all his life he had been fond of reading, and had delighted in his 
father's well-stocked librar3\ Though not studious, he had read a great deal, 
and had spent many thoughtful hours when a boy rambling about— first on the 
island of Manhattan near his father's home, and later in many other places. He 
had a quick, observing mind, a great love of fun, and in his own way he was a 
genius for telling stories. As he grew up he began to write sketches for maga- 
zines. Most of these were humorous, and the3^ were so well liked that before long 
their author felt encouraged to make the famous "Histor3^" In a 3'ear or so 
after that he became editor of the Analectic Magazine in Philadelphia. 

All this happened before he was really famous. He was, to be sure, pretty 
well known in New York and some other cities, and was also very much liked. 
His place was naturally in the best society ; his manly grace and genial manners 
won their way among the oldest families — the3' even had to forgive him for being- 
Dietrich Knickerbocker. 

About ten years after the "History" was published Mr. Irving was the si- 
lent partner in a commercial house in New York, and was leisurely" taking a 
pleasure trip through England when he suddenly received word that his firm had 
failed. This left him without money, far from home, and with no occupation. 
One of his first thoughts was to make another book. He had notes of his travels 
and memories of many scenes in America, which he embodied into a series of 
papers which he called the " Sketch-Book." 

Although he had been a writer for several years, and was not unknown to 
the public at home, he was far from famous yet. He had written a " Life of 
Thomas Campbell," which had been read in England, and on account of whicli 
that poet had received him very cordially on this visit. But that was not fame — 
lilthough it did lead to it. Campbell introduced the bright, agreeable young Amer- 
ican to Sir Walter Scott, who was then the most celebrated writer and the most 
influential man among literary people in England ; and after Irving had wi'itten 
his book and had failed to get either of the great publishing houses of the Con- 
stables or the Murray s to accept it, and after he had then made an unsuccessful 
effort to bring it out on his own account, kindly Sir Walter induced Mr. Murraj^ 
to change his mind. As a great risk, a thousand dollars was paid for the copy- 
right with a feeling that the publishers would "never see that mone}' again." 
But tliey did. Irving was a close observer of people and things ; he had watched 



Washington Irving. 391 

witli careful interest the quaint manners and customs of the old Dutch settlers in 
New York, who made up a g-ood part of the fifty thousand people then comprising- 
the population of the " Empire City ; " he had also traveled a g-ood deal, some 
half dozen years hefore, in France, Italy, Switzerland, and England ; and tlie 
quaint humor, the flowhig language, and the keen insight with which he sketched 
the impressions he had gained, made the book popular at once. The readers 
found in it a charm of freshness and beauty that was as surprising- as it was at- 
tractive. And although the modest author hid himself behind the pen-name of 
" Geoffrey Crayon," the secret soon came out. He was an American ! Another 
surprise and charm ! — and Washington Irving- suddenly found himself placed 
among- the greatest writers in the English language. He was rated highest 
among all the American authors then known, and was compared to Goldsmith 
and even Addison by the ablest critics in England. Mr. Murray doubled the sum 
of the copyright, and was more than willing to "risk" some more publications 
from the same author. Then "Bracebridge Hall " was written, and in 1824 Mr. 
Murray paid Irving- seventy-five hundred dollars for the " Tales of a Traveler " 
before he saw the manuscript. 

Not long after this, Alexander H. Everett — an elder brother of Edward 
Everett, a fine scholar and diplomatist, and then Ambassador to Spain — invited 
Mr. Irving- to go with him to Madrid to translate some papers connected with the 
life of Columbus, and it was his acceptance of this that led to his becoming the au- 
thor of his famous histories connected with Spain. The " History of the Life and 
Vo3''ag-es of Columbus" was published four years after the " Tales of a Trav- 
eler," and that was followed by the "Conquest of Granada," the "Alhambra," 
part of which was written in the ancient Moorish palace itself; " Legends of the 
Conquest of Spain," and "Mahomet and his Successors," all of which will always 
hold a unique place among the works of fiction that are based upon carefully ver- 
ihed facts. 

Meanwhile the author had returned for a few j^ears to England, and filled the 
office of secretary to the American Legation, and, with the honorable deg-ree of 
LL.D. from the University of Oxford, had g-one back in 1831 to his native land, 
where he was received with great enthusiasm as the pride of American literature. 

The " Tour on the Prairies " was written after a visit to the Rocky Mountains, 
and many graceful and interesting sketches of places and people abroad and at 
home came often from his fluent pen in the course of tlie next ten years. At the 
end of that time he was sent as American Minister to Spain, where he staid for 
four years and wrote his " Life of Goldsmith," while his last and g-reatest work, 
the " Life of Washington," was brought out during- the last four years of his life. 
Then he was a venerable, white-haired old gentleman, past three score and ten. 



392 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

living- — a bachelor still — with his nieces, at his beautiful home of " Sunnyside," 
on the bank of the Hudson River, near Tarrytown, New York. 

Washing-ton Irving- was born in New York Cit3^, April 3, 1783. He died at 
Sunnyside, near Tarrytown, New York, Novenibei' 28, 1859. 

The first g-reat American novelist and the writer who, with Irving-, lifted Amer- 
ican literatui-e into note with other nations, was James Feiiiniore Cooper. 

He was about six years young-er than the g-reat story- writing- historian, but his 
first woi-ks came before the world a few years before the appearance of the 
"Sketch-Book." Beside being- the first g-reat novelist born in America, Cooper 
was the first to write novels containing- descriptions of American people and 
scenery, and truly deserves the title of the father of our fiction. 

Thoug-h born in New Jersey, his life w^as passed almost entirely in New York 
State. He was but a little boy when his father moved out into the interior 
pai-t of the State, and settled in the little village upon Otsego Lake which is now 
called Coopers town. This region was wild and uncivilized then, bordering- the 
frontier wilderness, where the settlers made a small attempt at farming, but lived 
for the most part by hunting and fishing — in constant watch and resistance 
against the treachery of the Indians who lurked in the endless woods that stretched 
away from the settlement on many sides. It was here, in the midst of some of 
the most beautiful scenery in America, that little Fenimore Cooper grew up. 
He had a passionate love for the woods and lakes, the trees, wild flowers, birds, 
and little animals that were his dail^^ companions, although among the busy, prac- 
tical pioneers of the settlement there was no one to point out the loveliness of 
nature to him. In the later years of his life he often said that among these scenes 
those that he loved best were the ones he described in his books. 

As a boy, though, he had no special taste for literature. He was bright and 
quick to leai-n, and was sent to the village school early. By the time he was 
eleven years old he had outgrown the poor advantages that afforded, and went to 
Albany to study with an English gentleman who prepared boys for college. His) 
new teacher was a good one, and by the time young Cooper was thirteen he was 
ready to enter Yale College. He was younger and better prepared than the other 
boys in his class when he entered, and though this seemed to be an advantage at 
first, it turned out to be a misfortune ; because at the outset he did not need to 
study to keep his position in the class, he formed idle habits that he could not 
break when the studies grew more difficult; and, you know, idle hands — and heads 
— always get into mischief. He became unruly ; did not study ; made himself dis- 
liked by the teachers, and finally got into some serious trouble for which he was 
dismissed from the college. Still, he was not a bad young fellow, for the most 



J. Fenimore Cooper. 393 

famous of all his professors — Benjamin Silliman, Sr. — remained his friend as 
long- as he lived. 

On leaving- Yale, Cooper hoped to soon become a naval officer, but first he had 




J. Fenimore Cooper. 



to learn to be a sailor. So, with the help of his father, he found a place on a 
merchantman; and after a year on hei', lie became a midshipman in the United 



394 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

States Navy. He remained in the service six j^ears, but in 1811 he married and 
left the sea to settle on a farm in New Yoi'k State. 

It was here, when he was thirty j^ears old, that he first thoug-ht of writing- a 
story. This was the way it happened : One day he was reading- an English 
novel aloud to his wife, when he suddenly stopped and said : " I believe I could 
m3'self write a better stor3'^ on the same subject." 

Mrs. Cooper advised him to tr^^ He did and made a novel which he called 
" Precaution." He read it to his friends, who told him that he ought to publish it, 
and he did. It was not a success. He knew almost nothing- about English people 
and English scenery, and the book was so poor that it attracted scarcely"- any 
notice, yet the author was encourag-ed to make another attempt. This time, he 
said, he would write an American, not an English, book. He would describe the 
people and the scenery he had known all his life, and would choose his incidents 
from American history. Before the year had closed his second book was out, and 
as the author of "The Spy," Mr. James Fenimore Cooper, frontier farmer of New 
York State, found himself a famous man of letters. In this country and abroad 
he was ranked at once among- the very foremost of American writers. 

This decided his career, and thereafter his life was a literary one. His tales 
and other books alone amount to more than one hundred volumes. His letters, 
magazine articles, and scattered papers on various subjects are numberless. Suc- 
cess crowned success, while his application was so close that one i)iece of work 
was scarcely finished before another was begun. He loved his country and 
had an unfailing- enthusiasm in writing- about it. Almost no one else at that 
time wrote about America ; nearly all stories were of European life and scene- 
ry; even American writers felt that they must not only copy the style of 
Eng-lish authors, but also follow their example in the people and the scenes they 
portrayed. 

It was a bold venture on Cooper's part, to bring out something- truly American, 
but it was a novelty that became popular at once. " The Spy " was translated 
into other languages and republished in many parts of Europe. One of the g-reat 
mag-azines said : " Cooper has the hig-h praise and will have the future g'lory of 
having struck into a new path — of having- opened a mine of exhaustless wealth. 
In a word, he has laid the foundation of American romance." And he did not 
wait long before building- upon that foundation. "The Pioneers," "The Pilot," 
" Lionel Lincoln," " The Last of the Mohicans," and several others came out 
within the next ten years, adding to the author's reputation, almost as fast as they 
came. His fame spread like that of American commerce — to all lands and all 
peoples. The novels were intensely American in spirit, in scenery, and in char- 
acters, with a great deal of the human nature that belongs to all countries in 



J. Fenimore Cooper. 395 

them, besides. Everything- about them was fresh, lofty, and romantic. He loved 
Nature and wrote from his own intimacy with her ; and he loved the grand, sim- 
ple, straightforward soul of a true man, which he pictured with wonderful skill. 
His g-reatest character is the hunter and trapper, " Leatherstocking-, " who is the 
leading" figure in five of the author's best novels — " The Pioneers," " The Last of 
the Mohicans," " The Prairie," *' The Pathfinder," and '' The Deerslayer," which 
comprise " The Leatherstocking- Tales." 

His two best sea-stories — also written out of his own knowledg-e — are " The 
Pilot " and '' The Red Rover." Notwithstanding- the long- and tiresome parts of 
these stories, they are so clear and vivid that the reader often feels exactly as if 
he were amid the scenes and events, hoping, fearing, waiting, acting with the 
characters on the pages before him. 

Powerful and thrilling as his books are. Cooper had some very serious faults 
as a writer. He was as likely to turn out a poor story as a good one. It has been 
said that he would have had a higher reputation if about one-third of his novels 
had never been written, and if the other two-thirds had been condensed into one- 
third their present length. Certainly one of his faults was in making his descrip- 
tions and his conversations too long. Beside these defects, his books show that he 
was careless. He did not take pains enough in looking over his work and correct- 
ing it. Nor can we trust him on history. Although soon after his second book 
was published he moved to New York City, where he had a chance to see whatever 
reference- books the largest city in the country contained, he was never exact about 
the historical facts which he made use of. Without reference to the truth, he 
would describe scenes and events in any way that best suited his story. In this 
he was exactly the opposite from careful, painstaking Washington Irving. He 
was also careless about his language, and while it is often beautiful, it is also often 
incorrect or out of taste. 

Yet, with all his faults, Cooper had the genius of a great writer. He has given 
us noble, interesting characters of pure American type ; he has given us beautiful 
descriptions of scenery as he saw it himself, and of woodland frontier life as he 
knew it, of Indian friendship and treachery, and in countless ways he has preserved 
in vivid pictures scenes of early life in this country, which but for him would be 
almost unknown to us. 

He was an ardent patriot, and it grieved him to see the faults and vices of his 
countrymen ; so, after his return from a visit to Europe, in about the year 1833 — 
when he was a man of middle age — he wrote a series of satirical novels, which he 
hoped would benefit our people. Perhaps they did ; but the}^ added nothing to his 
reputation as a writer, though they show what a fearless, upright, and truthful 
man he was. Indeed it has been said that "as a brave, high-spirited, noble- 



396 One Huyidred Famous Americans. 

minded man, somewhat too proud and dogmatic, but thoroughly honest, he was 
ever on a level with the best characters in his best works." 

When the United States Government made mistakes or did wrong, he often 
expressed his opinion and condemnation of the matter in the newspapers. This 
sometimes got him into many warm debates, and now and then made him some 
enemies ; but though he was hot-tempered and loved to say just what he thought 
or felt without restraint, he was so kindly and generous when his anger was past 
that he often won the people whom he had offended back to the old friendship. 

He was a very large, handsome man, a good talker and a pleasant host, and he 
was warmly loved by his own family and friends. 

James Fenimore Cooper was born in Burlington, New Jersey, September 15, 
1789. He died at Cooperstown, New York, September 14, 1851. 

Thirty years after Cooper's fame first spread abroad, the world learned that 
America had produced another great novelist. This was the author of " The 
Scarlet Letter," Nathaniel Hawthorne. He was then living in his native 
town, Salem, Massachusetts, a shy, sweet-tempered man of forty-six years old. 
He was tall and handsome, with a round, well-shaped head, massive brow — " like 
a poet Webster " — a sweet smile, deep, dark eyes, that showed the shyness of 
his nature by seeming to be always going to glance away from the person with 
whom he was talking. The people about quaint, beautiful Salem, though they 
knew him very little, were well used to seeing the tall, manly figure in the lanes, 
among the fields, about the seashore, moving along in his strong, rapid, swinging 
gait, completely wrapped up in his own thoughts, or quietly enjoying the company 
of one of his few, choice friends. He lived, for the most part, in a world of his 
own ; he spoke in a quiet voice, with an easy, unexcited, self-poised manner ; but 
when others talked he generally was silent, and nearly ever^^body felt that it was 
not easy to "get near " him, as we say. 

Up to within a few years before " The Scarlet Letter " appeared Hawthorne's^ 
life had been one of much poverty and gloomy sadness ; henceforth it was one of 
prosperity and quiet happiness. But the story of that life is too interesting to be 
told in one sentence. He was a thorough New Englander. His forefathers were 
among the first Puritans that came over from old England ; devoted, stern follow- 
ers of the " Dissenting " religion. Most of them were sea-faring men, and Na- 
thaniel's father was a shipmaster, who died far from home when his son was but 
four years old. His mother grieved bitterly for her husband all the rest of her 
life, and their home was always a house of mourning. 

When Nathaniel was nine years old he hurt his foot in a game of foot-ball, and 
for three years he had to keep pretty quiet most of the time. It was a misfort- 



Nathaniel Haivthorne. 



397 



line that proved a benefit, for it was during- the long" months when he was first 
confined to the house that he began to be interested in reading*. There were then 
not as man}" books for children as there are now — young- folks had to read from 
old folk's libraries. Little Nathaniel read over and over again Bunyan's '' Pil- 
grim's Prog-ress," which was his favorite, and also Spenser's poem of the " Fairy 




Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Queen," and other old-fashioned books, such as most little boys now think very 
hard to understand. 

When he was sixteen he left quaint, lovely, old-fashioned Salem — which he 
has made famous wherever the English language is read — and entered Bowdoin 
College, at New Brunswick, Maine. Here he was fortunate in having- a number 
of very bright and g-ifted companions. Longfellow was his classmate and friend, 
Franklin Pierce — who afterward became President — was in the class ahead of 
him, and became his life-long- and intimate friend, while with Horatio Bridge — who 
in later years was a distinguished officer in the United States Navy — he had 
still closer companionship. 



3i)<5 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

After Hawthorne graduated, he went home to his mother's gloomy, lonesome 
house, and there passed twelve years of secluded, studious life. His mother still 
nourished her grief in loneliness, and with his shy, retiring-, and often melancholy 
nature, Hawthorne easily fell into her quiet, unsocial life, growing- more diffi- 
dent every year, till but for a very few friends he was as unknown to his neigh- 
bors — except by sight— as if he were a stranger in the town. Yet he had kind 
feelings toward people; he was always gentle and full of good-will for those 
around him, but he was painfully reserved and diffident, while he was often af- 
flicted with fits of heavy gloom and low spirits. 

During this time he was trying to write, but he was so dissatisfied with his 
first stories that he burnt most of them before any one else saw them. Some, 
however, he published, though he only received a very little money for them, if 
any. It was much harder for anybody to earn his living by writing- in America 
when Hawthorne was young than it is now. Time after time he was discouraged, 
but still he kept on. He had, he felt, a work to do ; and he did it, though nobod}^ 
seemed to want it, and he was himself far from sure that he was doing it Avell. 
Year after year he " wrought patiently and unrecognized at his marvelous work, 
and because he did not falter or despond, nor aim lower, nor try for the easy 
vogue of the da^y, but was content to serve beauty and truth for the sake of 
beauty and truth, he is now held of all men with gratitude and reverence as one 
of the benefactors of the world." Twelve years after he left college he decided 
to collect a number of his s-tories that had alread}^ been printed in papers and 
magazines and published them in a book under the name of " Twice-Told Tales." 
Even then few people took any notice of them. Mr. Longfellow — who had an 
easier time in making himself known — wrote a notice of the work of his old 
schoolmate for the North American Revieiv, praising the stories as the work 
of a man of genius ; but it was not till several years later that they were 
anything like widely read and appreciated, even by literary people. 

For a long time after he was able to make his living — a bare one — by his pen, 
he was far from famous. In 1843, six 3''ears after the '' Twice-Told Tales " came 
out, he moved from Salem to Concord, and with the sweet, lovable ladj^ whom he 
had married meantime, he lived in an old manse that was standing in Eevolution- 
ary days. It is said that the parish minister who lived there long- ago stood at 
one of its windows on the 19th of April, 1775, and looking out upon the battlefield 
saw the men of Concord ineet the British, and whip them. 

Hawthorne's life here was pleasanter and happier than it had been at Salem. The 
love of his wife, the pleasure of his children, and the gradual success of his writ- 
ings put the gloomy days of the past out of sight, while the present and the future 
were lit up with comfort and happiness. His da3-s of poverty and struggle were 



Nathaniel Hmvthorne. 399 

over. Before his marriag-e George Bancroft, the historian — then Collector of the 
Port of Boston — had obtained for him a place in the Boston Custom House, and 
not long after some other friends had secured from President Polk an appoint- 
ment for him as Surveyor of the Port of Salem. These duties added to his in- 
come very mucli, and did not keep him from writing. 

In the ancient house at Concord he wrote a number of exquisite stories, which 
lie soon published in a book called '' Mosses from an Old Manse," and four years 
after that — while he was living again at Salem — to his everlasting renown, " The 
Scarlet Letter " appeared. It was the first great novel written by an American, 
and we have never had another that is likely to live as long or has been as much 
admired by cultivated critics all over the world. The next year he published " The 
House of Seven Gables ;" the next, a story of the famous Brook Farm community 
at Roxbury, near Boston, which he called " The Blithedale Romance," and the 
" Life of Franklin Pierce." These old college-mates were as close friends now 
as in the days when Pierce found pleasure in cheering his melancholy companion 
out of his fits of gloom ; and, soon after he became President, Mr. Pierce appointed 
Hawthorne as United States Consul to Liverpool, which was probably the best- 
paying office in his gift. 

Now a man of wealth, influence, and fame, Hawthorne spent four years on 
government duty in England, and then some time in traveling on the Continent, 
writing meanwhile " The Marble Faun," which is thought by many people to be 
the best of all his works. 

When he returned to America he made his home, for the brief remainder of his 
life, in Concord, where he bought a house near those of his friends, Emerson and 
Thoreau. " Our Old Home," a sketch of England and the English, was the only 
work that he published after coming back. His valuable and interesting " Note- 
Books on America, England, France, and Italy," and "St. Septhnius," came out 
after his death. 

The great place which Hawthorne's works have— higher than any other 
American novelist, living or dead— is not easy to describe, and is difficult for 
young people to understand. It is not chiefly in literary style, yet that, it is said, 
combines almost every excellence— elegance, simplicity, grace, clearness, and force ; 
it is rather great originality, a rare power of analysis, a delicate and exquisite 
humor, and a marvelous use of words. The " Twice-Told Tales " are regarded as 
masterpieces of literary art, clear and simple in style, profound m sentiment, ex- 
act in thought, and rich in imagination. " He was," says one of our critics, " a pa- 
tient observer of the operations of spiritual laws, and relentless in recording the 
results of his observations. In his novels the events occur in the hearts and minds 
of his characters, and our minds are fixed upon the souls rather than the outward 



400 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

events and incidents we find in his books. He is beyond compare the greatest 
romance writer of the age, in anj^ country." 

Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in Salem, Massachusetts, July 4, 1804. He 
died in Plymouth, New Hampshire, May 19, 1864. 

"While Cooper is the first and Hawthorne the greatest of American novelists, 
Harriet Beecher StoAve is of all others the most famous. Her story of 
"Uncle Tom's Cabin," which came out nine years before the beg'inning' of the 
Civil War, was the most widely circulated and the most powerful book that has 
ever been published in America, and probably in the world. It told about people 
in the South who owned slaves, and about the slaves themselves, and though it 
showed that there were good people who upheld slavery, it also showed that the 
practice of slavery led to many evils, and ought to be stopped. All this was 
brought out by a most interesting story. Nothing so strong and convincing had 
ever been written on this subject before, and the book made a sensation through- 
out America and Europe. It has been translated into almost every known lan- 
guage, and although the cause for which it was Avritten has long since been gained, 
the book still lives and is read with as much interest as ever by ever^^ new 
generation. 

When the stor}' first came out it was by installments in the weekly journal 
called the National Era, published at Washington, D. C. Then it was issued in 
book-form by the famous old Boston house of John P. Jewett — scarcely another 
publisher in the United States would have dared to do it. He advertised far and 
wide, so that the nation was waiting for it when it came, and Avhen it came every 
one knew that its coming would be a great literary event; but it was more than 
that, it was a great political event. The arguments of statesmen, and the ver- 
dicts of juries were overturned b}^ its touching appeal to the heart and the 
imagination of the people. It did more than any ten public men toward form- 
ing a sentiment against slavery, towards building up the Republican part}' and 
electing Abraham Lincoln to the Presidenc^^ and raising volunteers for the Civil 
War, which meant a fight for no slavery to almost as many people as it meant 
a struggle to keep the Union. 

Mrs. Stowe was the daughter of the famous Dr. Lyman Beecher, and one of the 
most gifted members of his celebrated family. When they were little the children 
of this household were left ver^^ often to take care of themselves ; they were sent 
to school and taught to be useful at home, but in their play they roamed through 
the fields and woods pretty much as they pleased. Harriet was called a tom-boy 
because she could climb trees and ride horses as well as her brothers. She loved 
the wild flowers and the sk^^ antl hills. She says of herself : " I was educated 



Harriet Beecher Stowe. 



401 



first and foremost by Nature, wonderful, beautiful, ever-changing- as she is in that 
cloudland, Litchfield." She was a mischievous little thing even when she was 
scarcely more than a baby, and she yet remembers that before she was five years 
old she persuaded her younger brothers and sisters to eat up a number of fine 
tulip-roots, hy telling them that they were onions, and tasted good. Even then she 
had the power to make others think as she wished. She remembers too that when 
her mother found what she had done, she did not scold her, but kindlv told her 
what beautiful flowers would have grown from those tulip-roots if, instead of 




Harriet Beecher Stowe. 

being eaten, they had been planted. Her mother's patience made little Harriet 
feel worse than the scolding would have done, and when that good, gentle mother 
died soon after, she grieved about all the naughty things she had done to trouble 
her, and resolved to be a better girl. 

When she was about seven years old, her older sister, Catherine, wrote of her : 
" Harriet is a very good girl ; she has been to school all this summer and has 
learned to read very fluently. She has committed to memory twenty-seven hymns 
and two long chapters in the Bible." 

There were then— as now— many cultivated people living in Litchfield. It con- 
tamed a very good school, whose principal teacher, Mr. John Brace, had a gift of 



402 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

luiderstaiKling" and encourag-ins" each pupil. He took particular pains with Har- 
i-iet's compositions, and did much to teach her to write the good, clear English 
which is a delight in all her books. 

When she was thirteen her sister Catherine opened a school in Hartford, Con- 
necticut, and took Harriot with her. She not only studied hard in this school, but 
very soon began to help teach, too, becoming- a regular teacher there after her 
studies were linished. 

When she was twenty-one her father moved to Ohio — very far West indeed that 
seemed then — and Catherine and Harriet g"ave up their school to go with him. 
They soon opened another school in Cincinnati, and, three years after, Harriet mar- 
ried Professor Stowe, who was then president of the Lane Theological Seminary, 
which her father had helped to found. 

Mrs. Stowe now^ lived for some time almost on the boundary line of the slave 
States. In Ohio thei'e wau'e no slaves, but just across the Ohio River in Kentucky 
there were man^y. When they tried to run away from their masters they usually 
started for Ohio, where there were several anti-slavery people to help them. Mrs. 
Stowe was herself an Abolitionist, and it touched her \evy deepl}^ to see the poor 
creatures who tried to escape from cruel masters caug'ht and dragged back to the 
life they hated, in spite of all that she and other white people could do for them. 
About this time the Abolition party, which had a strong force at Lane, was g-row- 
ing- \{^v\ larg'c and powerful. But they were condemned and despised by all " re- 
spectable citizens," for even in tlie North it was not thought to be to an}^ one's 
credit to put himself on the side of the negro. 

Long before, Mrs. Stowe had learned to hate slavery from an aunt, who, after 
spending" a few years in the West Indies, where slavery was then practiced, had 
come back to New England and lived in Dr. Beecher's family when Harriet was a 
little girl. She now thought that if people could know what she knew of the 
negroes' sufferings, and the bad elTect that slavery had on the white people, too, 
all kind-hearted and honest persons wo\dd surely become Abolitionists. It was 
with this motive that she resolved to write "Uncle Tom's Cabin." She was 
poor and had several little cliildren, and was very busy from morning till night, 
but — often w'ith her foot on the cradle and her writing-paper in her lap — she 
found time to write her g-reat novel. 

Before this she had published in the papers several short stories, but she had 
made no name and attracted no special attention. When " Uncle Tom's Cabin " 
was finished she oil'ered it to the editor of the National Era, at Washington, and 
he began to i)ublisli it. It attracted a great deal of attention at once, and we 
already know the story of it after it was put into book-form. Beside the work it 
wrought in changing- the public mind about slavery, it brought her fame and a 



Harriet Beecher Stoive. 403 

great deal of money. Her name was a household word. The most eminent peo- 
ple of the woi'ld became her friends and correspondents, and she entered on a life 
of literary work that lasted for several years. 

She had left Cmcinnati some time before this, moved with her husband to 
Brunswick, Maine, where Dr. Stowe was made professor in Bowdoin Colleg-e, and 
in 1854 the3^ went to Europe, where she was welcomed and entertained b^^ the 
greatest people in the world. 

Among the many books that came from Mrs. Stowe's pen after "Uncle Tom," 
"The Minister's Wooing" is thought to be the best, and next to that " Oldtown 
Folks," and "Sam Lawson's Stories," which are very able stories of Now England 
life and character. She published about fifteen volumes altogether, all but a few 
being novels. Some of them have made but little impression, though the "Minis- 
ter's Wooing " and " Oldtown Folks" are still ranked among the best of American 
fiction. 

Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, June 
14, 1812. She died at Hartford, Connecticut, July 1, 1896. 



POETS AND ESSAYISTS. 



ONE of the first American aiitliors who gained world-wide reputation and made 
a lasting- fame was William Culleii Bryant. He was a poet and a 
journalist, and though he will be remembered chiefly by his poetry, his career as 
an editor for more than fifty j^ears is one of the most remarkable in the history of 
American newspapers. 

Born in the latter part of the last century, and of active, powerful mind and 
earnest purpose, he took some part in most of the important national events of 
his time. He was the son of a New England physician, who was a man of edu- 
cation, taste, and judgment, and himself had a gift for poetry. His mother was 
a good, bright, practical Yankee woman, and Mr. Bryant always said that his 
mother's love of right and justice at any cost had more than anything else given 
him his upright principles. Even when a baby Bryant showed an uncommon 
mind ; for he knew the alphabet when onlj^ sixteen months old. When he was 
nine 3^ears old he began to make verses, some of which, he himself says, " were 
utter nonesense," and he adds that his father tried to teach him that he must 
write only when he had something to say. His grandfather and father both took 
an interest in his writing, and both showed good judgment in their ways of teach- 
ing and encouraging the little poet. They often paid him for a poem they thought 
well done, but if it were not at all good they made him do it over. When he was 
ten years old he made some little verses, telling about the school he went to, that 
were published in the county newspaper ; and he had a copy of his own poetry 
actually in print. Alwut two years after this great event, an eclipse of the sun 
took place, about which he Avrote a poem that is still preserved. It is interest- 
ing to see how much like his great poems it is, though of course not nearl}' so 
good as they are. It shoAvs the same reverential, serious spirit which is seen in 
his best works, and the same close and affectionate observation of nature's works 
— the sky and trees and birds. When Bryant was a boy he learned to work on 
a farm, but the time when he was happiest was when the long winter evenings 
gave him leisure to read and write and think. It was a great event to him when. 



William Cullen Bryant. 



405 



one day, his father brought home Pope's translation of Homer's lUad. He thought 
it must be the finest poem that had ever been written. 

After a time he wrote another poem, wliich was pubhshed and attracted some 
attention. A second edition of it was broug-lit out in a book later, with a note 
from the publishers stating positively that its author was but thirteen years of 
age. This was done because people were saying that it could not have been writ- 
ten by a boy no older than that. 

When this gifted lad was sixteen he entered Williams College. Here he 
Vv-as a good student in all his classes, but was chiefly distinguished for his verse 







William Cullen Bryant. 



writing, and for his talent for languages. Before he had finished his course 
his father told him he could no longer support him at college, and he would 
have to leave. There was nothing to do but give up his studies and do as his 
father said ; it was a great disappointment, and a loss that he regretted as long 
as he lived. 

About this time he wrote that great poem, " Thanatopsis," which is said by 
critics to be the most remarkable literary production ever known to come from 
a person no more than seventeen years old. It was the first American poem 
that was really admired by any large number of people abroad, and it was also the 



406 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

first American poem that has hved to a lasting- fame. Mr. Bryant became a law- 
yer after leaving- college, and rose rapidly in that profession. But his heart was in 
his writing-, and when the publication of his '• Thanatopsis " — several years after 
it was written — attracted the attention of literary' men to him, he was anxious to 
leave the law and give his whole time to writing-. In a short time the way opened. 
A few years after the celebrated poem appeared he helped to establish and be- 
gan to edit the New York Review. For this he came to New York, where he lived 
the remainder of his life. Many of his best poems were published in this mag-- 
azine. Some also were printed in other papers ; and after about a year he joined 
the staff of the New York Evening Post, and to the end of his life he worked on 
that paper. During- most of the time he was its editor-in-chief. His regular la- 
bors on this paper beg-an when it was about twenty years old ; and although 
there have been many men of ability connected with it, probabl}^ no one has ever 
done as much for its literary standing- as Mr. Br^'ant. It was then the leading- 
Democratic paper of New York, a power among- the people, and remarkable for 
its pure and manly tone. His career as an editor made for him many friends and 
admirers, for he was always dignified and fair-minded, and in politics stood firmly 
by the cause which he thought was right, independent of anj^ party. 

Nine years after he moved to New York he took his family on his own and 
their first visit to Europe. During- the trip he studied foreign languages, and added 
very much to his knowledge of general literature, which before that time had not 
been very broad or deep. On European journeys which he afterwards made he 
wrote letters to the Evening Post, which were collected and published in a book. 
This was followed b}'' several other volumes of poems, brought out at different 
times during the rest of his life ; for active new^spaper w^ork did not crowd out the 
sweet strains of verse from his mind. Everything that he wrote was always 
eagerly welcomed by the people, and for manj^ years he was one of the most pop- 
ular living poets of the English language. In his poetry he described American 
scenery — our woods and fields, mountains and valleys — more beautifully and 
more accurately than any writer of his time ; and as a poet of nature he has still 
hardly an equal in this country. 

A celebrated English reviewer saj^s : " He is the translator of the silent lan- 
guage of nature to the world;" an eminent American critic gives him a very 
high place among writers : " The serene beauty and thoughtul tenderness which 
characterize his descriptions or rather interpretations of outward objects are par- 
alleled only in Wordsworth. His poems are perfect of their kind. They address 
the finer instincts of our nature with a voice so winning- and gentle— they search 
w ith such subtle pawer all in the heart that is true and good — that their influence, 
though quiet, is resistless. Bryant's poems are not only valuable for their own 



Richard Henry Dana. . 407 

literary worth, but also for the vast influence their wide circulation may exercise 
on national feeling's and manners. They purify as well as please. In him we 
have a poet who can bring- the hues of nature into the crowded mart, and, by 
ennobling- thoug-Jits of man and his destiny, induce the most worldly to give their 
eyes occasional g-lauce upward, and the most selfish to feel that the love of God 
and man is better than the love of Mammon." 

In his stately, white-haired old ag-e, all America felt a pride in Mr. Bryant. 
He was called upon to g-race important public occasions by his presence ; he was 
asked to speak when great audiences were expected to listen to important matters, 
or when it was wanted to draw large crowds to bring forward questions of 
moment. 

William Cullen Bryant was born at Cummington, Massachusetts, November 3, 
1794. He died in New York City, June 12, 1878. 

One of the best poets of Brj^ant's time was his friend Richard Henry Dana. 

He is almost forgotten now, except by a few who love good verse, and some gen- 
eral readers who know" of ' ' The Buccaneer. " But he was perhaps the most original 
poet we have ever had, and holds a high place with good critics, one of whom says : 
" Nothing is forced or foreign about his writings. The inward life of the man has 
found utterance in the rugged music of the poet. He seems never to have written 
from hearsay, or taken any of his opinions at second-hand. The mental powers 
displayed in his writings are of a high order. He possesses all the qualities which 
distinguish the poet — acute observation of nature, a deep feeling of beauty, a sug- 
gestive and shaping- imagination, a strong and keen, though not dominant sensibil- 
ity, and a laige command of expression." 

Mr. Dana also wrote novels that were full of dark passion and stern moral 
purpose. They did not please the public very well, but his reviews and criticisms 
were among- the best. In 1821 — when he was thirty-four years old — he wrote a 
paper on Edmund Kean, the great English actor, which is said to still be the 
finest piece of theatrical criticism in American literature. 

Mr. Dana was about seven years older than Mr. Bryant, and like him was a 
native of Massachusetts ; he also left college — Harvard — before finishing his 
course, and after practicing law for a time gave it up to be a writer. After awhile 
he became a popular lecturer, especially on Shakespeare. He never rose to the 
great fame of Mr. Bryant, but in his day he was one of the most noted men of 
letters in the country'-. 

Richard Henry Dana was born November 15, 1787, at Cambridge, Massachu- 
setts, where he died, February 2, 1879. 



408 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Aiiollier poet, who was one (^f the most popular writers in America twenty 
years ago or less, was Fitzj»Teeiie llalleck. He came of a famous New Eng- 
land stock, his mother heiiiga desceiulant- of nolile old clerijyman John Eliot, the 
"Apostle of the Indians ; " hut his home for the most part was in New York City. 
With little education, although a lai-ge gift for w^riting verses, he was not ahle to 
get into any very advanced position in life; when he was ahout eighteen 3'ears 
old he entei-ed a banking-house in New York, where he remained as a clerk for a 
number of years. Meanwhile he wrote. He formed a literai-y partnership with the 
gifted young- wi-iter, Joseph Rodman Drake ; tlunr poems wer(> published under 
tlie pen-name of Croaker & Co., in the Kvoiing Post, and aftei'wards collected in a 
book called the " Croaker Papers." Halleck's first verses attracted a good deal of 
notice, and when in a couple of years he brought out the clever satire on politics 
and society, entitled '' Fanny," he became exceedingly popular. After that he 
went to Europe for awhile, and upon his return published '' Marco Bozzaris," a 
poem of a different kind, and one which still ranks as among the iinest martial 
lyrics iu the English language. At about the same time, he wrote some beautiful 
lines on the memory of the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns. " I am not sure," 
said Mr. Bryant, then of the Post, " that these verses are not the finest in which 
one poet celebrates another." ''Alnwick Castle," '' Connecticut," and " Red 
Jacket " are also poems of Halleck's that received sincere admiration from the 
best judges of his time. They show a facility, a sweetness, and a grace which is 
seldom equaled by anj'- of our present writers, and which give him a place as a 
gifted poet, if not a great one. 

These few poems are standing the test of time, and will probably always be 
n>ad and achnii'ed. bul in many of Mi'. Halleck's other works there are qualities 
that seem out of place in poetry. Tliey struck the taste of people at the time, but 
they were not of the sort that live. One of our critics says, the ludicrous and the 
sad are face to face so often that we bui'st into mirth in the midst of tears. "The 
loftiness, pui'ity, and t(>nd(n'ness of feeling which Halleck can so well express 
Avhen he pleases, and the delicate, graceful fancies with which he can festoon 
thought and emotion should never be associated with wiiat is mean or ridiculous, 
even to gratify wit or whim." 

Fitzgreene Halleck was born on the 8th of July, ITOO, at Guilford, Connecticut, 
where he died, November IT, 1807. 

Henry Wadsworth T^oiig'fellow is the most widely popular of American 
poets. His bi'autiful, relined, and gentle poems are read by all ages and all classes 
of people, wherevei" the English language is spoken. His father Avas an eminent 
lawyer in Portland, ]\Taine ; his mother was fond of music and poetry, and it 



Henry Wadsworth Longfelloiv. 



409 



was from her, Longfellow believed, that he inherited liis imagination and taste 
for romance. When he was only eigiit months old his moliier wrote of him, " He 
is an active rogue, and wishes for nothing- so much as singing and dancing." He 
was a sweet-tempered, unselfish little fellow, too. The Urst letter he ever wrote 
was sent to his father when he was seven years old ; he began by asking his father 
to bring home a little Bible for his younger sister, who wanted one very much, and 




Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 



then, when he reached the last line of his letter, he told about the drum he wanted 
for himself. Such thoughtfulness for others before himself was as marked all his 
life as in this little childish letter. There were also an uprightness and high sense 
of honor in Mr, Longfellow's character, as well as a gentleness and refinement of 
feeling, that were admired by those who knew him more than it is possible to ad- 
mire any written poetry, however beautiful. His life itself was a poem, full of 
goodness and truth. 



410 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

He was a handsome little boy, with brown curls, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks; and 
as he g-rew up he became equally handsome as a man. Even when he was old and 
white-haired, he was the most beautiful, venerable person that the visitors to 
Cambridge ever saw. His first verses were written when he was thirteen years 
old ; he sent them to a town paper, and waited eagerly to see whether or not they 
would be published. Yes, they were ! How excitedly happy he felt ! That is 
until he heard some one — who had no idea who wrote them — say they were " ver3'^ 
poor stuff." That changed all his happiness into misery. Still, he soon made up 
his mind to write some more and try and do better. After that a number of his 
pieces were published in the Portland Gazette. Meanwhile he had some more 
serious studies than poetry, and when he was fourteen he entered Bowdoin Col- 
lege, at Brunswick, Maine. Here he was particularly^ distinguished for his blame- 
less and orderly life. He was merry and fond of amusement, but, as one of his 
classmates said, "it seemed easy for him to avoid the unworthy." As a student 
he was more noted in composition than for anything else ; he wrote uncommonly 
well, both in prose and verse. When he graduated he would have been class 
poet, but that his standing was so good that he had the higher honor of deliver- 
ing- the English Salutatory. 

Soon after he graduated he v/as asked to return to Brunswick and take the chair 
of Modern Languages and Literature in the college. He accepted the appointment, 
but with the understanding that he should first pass some time in Europe to 
make himself better fitted for his duties. The next four years were spent in travel, 
in making himself better acquainted with foreign languages, in reading and writ- 
ing, and in leading a most happy life. France, Spain, Ital}^ and Germany were 
visited and well studied, and Avhen he returned he was — though onl}'^ twent^'-three 
years old — finely fitted for his work. He performed his duties so well at Bowdoin 
that after about six years he was offered the still more important professorship of 
Modern Languages and Belles-Lettres at Harvard College. Then he left Bo.wdoin 
to make his home in Cambridge for the rest of his life. As before, he made a trip 
abroad before taking up his duties. It was then that he lost the young wife whom 
he loved most dearly, and whose memory is preserved to the world in manj^ of his 
poems. She died and was buried in Holland. 

During these years of his youth and early manhood Longfellow was writing as 
well as studying ; he was helping to make literature, while deeply interested in 
that made by others ; but he was so modest in his estimate of his own talents that 
he was unwilling to come before the public as an author until he had done his best 
to write something worthy of being printed. Four years after he went to 
Cambridge, and when he was thirty- two years old, his romance called "Hype- 
rion " appeared, and also a small collection of his poems, entitled " Voices of the 



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 411 

Nig-lit." They attracted a great deal of attention, and at once raised him to a 
place of note and honor among American poets. 

For nearly forty years after this he wrote almost steadily, and every few years 
the English-speaking people all over the world would rejoice that a new volume of 
Longfellow's poems was out. One of the most admired of all his writings is 
" Evangeline," a beautiful story in beautiful verse, which, it is said bj^ those who 
study poetry for its own sake, is the most perfect piece of rhyme and melody in 
English hexameter that is known. His next great work was the " Songs of 
Hiawatha," which is the most popular of all his poetry. That came out eight 
years after " Evang-eline," and a year later he resig-ned his chair in Harvard 
Universit3^ In the next year, when he went to Europe, he was received every- 
where with marked attention. Both the great English Universities of Oxford and 
Cambridge honored him with their degrees of Doctor of Civil Law, and some of 
the most distinguished people of all the countries he visited welcomed him with 
cordiality and respect. 

After Mr. Longfellow's first trip abroad he was always in the habit of making 
translations of some of the best ballad poetry in the European languages ; but in 
the year 18G7, before his last visit to the Old World, he began to publish a careful 
and scholarly translation of the " Divine Comedy " of the celebrated Italian poet, 
Dante, which was far more important than any other translations he ever made. 
It makes three volumes altogether, the last of which came out the year after his 
return. Meantime, he also wrote some delightful works in prose, romances and 
books of travel. All his writings are full of simplicity, purity, and beauty. No 
word that does not tend to make men better and the world happier ever came from 
his pen. 

It has been said: the great characteristic of Longfellow is that of addressing the 
moral nature through imagination, of linking moral truth to intellectual beauty. 
In beautiful language, sweet, singing verse, and cultivated taste, both Dana and 
Bryant are probably as fine as he ; but he has surpassed them in great thoughts of 
real importance. The " Psalm of Life " touches the heroic string of our nature, 
breathes energy into our hearts, sustains our lagging purposes, and fixes our 
thoughts on that which lasts forever. He is a poet who has perfect command of 
expression. He selects with great delicacy and precision the exact phrase which 
best expresses or suggests his idea. He colors his style with the skill of a painter, 
and in compelling words to picture thought he not only has the warm flush and 
bright tints of language at his command, but he catches its changeful, passing 
hues. He idealizes real life ; he draws out new meaning from many of its rough 
sliows ; he clothes subtle and delicate thoughts in familiar imagery ; he embodies 
high moral sentiment in beautiful and ennobling forms ; he inweaves the golden 



412 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

thi-oad of spiritual beiiifi- into the texture of common existence ; he discerns and 
addresses some of the finest sympathies of the heart; but he rarely soars out 
of the range of coinmon interests and sympathies. In '' The Psalm of Life " — our 
critic continues — in "Excelsior" and " The Lii;ht of Stars," Lonf^-fellow teaches 
us with much force to reckon earthly evils at their true worth, and to endure 
with patience what hie brings us. " The Villag-e I^lacksmith " and *' God's Acre " 
have a rough grandeur, and "Maidenhood" and " Endymion " a soft, sweet, 
mystical charm which show to advantage the range of his poAvers. Perhaps 
"Maidenhood" is the most finely poetical of all his poems. The " Spanish Stu- 
dent," though it lacks the dramatic skill and power necessarj' to make a good 
play, is one of the most beautiful poems in dialogue born in American literature. 
In it are to be seen the imagination, fanc}^ sentiment, and manner of the poet, for 
it seems to comprehend the whole of his genius, and to display all the powers of 
its author as none of his other Avorks do. 

In all, from tlie fii'st to the last, Mr. Longfellow's writings, like his life, were 
simple and noble, beautiful and good. Few gi'eat men have had such a happy life 
as he, wdioni we call the Cambridge Bai-d. Unlike many poets, he never had to 
struggle with poverty, or to live lonely and unappreciated. His gifts were at once 
recognized, and friends, wealth, and fame came to him without waiting. He was 
not free from sadness, though. Years after the first Mrs. Longfellow's death, he 
married again; and in 1801 this lady met her death by a shocking accident. 
While dressing for a party her clothes caught fire from a light in the room, and 
sh{> was bui-ned to death. 

Good fortune sometimes injures our characters more than t rials ; but they did 
no liarm to this sunny, gentle natui'e. If he had known all kinds of griefs, he 
could scarcely have been more sympathetic with all men, or more of a friend to 
the unfortunate than he was. 

Henry W. Longfellow^ was born at Portland, Maine, on Februarj'^ 27, 1807. 
He died in Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 24, 1882. 

In original genius, Edgar Allan I'oe has probably been the greatest of all 
American poets. He also had Avonderful gifts for story-writing, and thii-ty or 
forty years ago " no critic's praise w-as more coveted than his, and no critic's 
blame more dreaded." He wrote poems from the time he was a boj^ but did not 
take up literature for a profession until he was about twenty-four years old. He 
then became one of the workers on the Soufheiii Literary Messenger, published 
at Richmond, Virginia. In a few years he had won a place upon other magazines 
also, and in the year 1837 he moved to New York, where he soon became well 
known as a wi-iter for some of the leading periodicals in the country, and also as 



Edgar Allan Foe. 



413 



the author of the " Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym." In a couple of years 
more he was editor of the Gentleman'' s Magazine, at Philadelphia, and j)ublished 
his best stories in the volume entitled " Tales of the Arabesque and Grotesque." 
He was now looked upon as one of the most original, acute, and promising writers 
of his time ; and when, in the year that he was thirty-six, his poem, " The Raven," 
came out, his reputation rose to a world-wide fame. His other poems, "Annabel 
Lee " and " The Bells," and his stories of " The Gold Bug-," " The Purloined Let- 
ter," "The Murders of Rue Morgue," and " The Fall of the House of Usher,'' 




Edgar Allan Poe. 



to 



were accepted by the public as writings of g'reat merit, and at once took a lastin 
place in English literature. 

Poe's genius and style of writing was wild, weird, and unearthly, poured out 
of a calm, fertile, and delicate mind of uncommon powers of imagination. His 
poetry was wonderful, his prose was often as l^eautiful as verse, and his criticisms 
" selected every minute thread of thought, and seized every fleeting- shade of feel- 
ing," using- on them rarely combined powers of reason and fancy, so that lie was 
in his day the leading censor of all American literature. But — says his critic — 
one of tAvo things was necessary to quicken his mind into full activity. The 
first was a personal grudge, the second was some chance suggestion which 



414 One Hundred Famous Ainericans. 

awakened and tasked all the resources of his mind. The character of Poe's writ- 
ing's is like a niii-ror reflecting his nature. His works tell much of his own feeling 
about himself, but little of his life as others saw it. He was — it has been said — 
an original genius of high and rare order, a master of melanchol.y fitful and 
beautiful, but " like sweet bells jangled out of tune and hai-sh." His genius was 
slight, small in quantity, and not of a broad range, yet in his poetry — and per- 
haps in his prose — it ranks above everything of its kind that America has ever 
produced. His keen, clear, lyrical, and musical verse, when at its best, is 
scarcely surpassed by poet of an}^ age or country. But through almost all of 
it there is a shadow of melancholy, misery, and gloom. In this we find the ke}^- 
note of the nature of the man. 

As an author, Poe had success ; as a man his life was a miserable failure. 

His father was a Virginian, the son of General Poe, a distinguished officer in 
the Revolutionary A rmy ; his mother was a beautiful English actress playing in 
Boston at the time Edgar was born. Both his parents died of consumption when 
they Avere very ,young, leaving three baby orphans Avithout a home. Edgar, the 
middle child, was adopted by a wealthy merchant, Mr. John Allan, who gave the 
little boy his own name and took him to his wife in their home at Richmond, Vir- 
ginia. When the little fellow was seven years old Mr. and Mrs. Allan took him 
to England and put him in the celebrated bo^^s' school at Stoke Newington. 
Everything- that money could buy Edgar's foster parents gave him, but he 
yearned for a tender love and sympathy for his feelings, which they could not be- 
stow. In place of this he found gTeat comfort with animals. Some of the happi- 
est hours of his boyhood were spent with the dumb brutes that he loved to feed 
and caress ; and as he grew older, he made many very devoted friends. 

It was during one of the vacations from the English school that he came to 
know the good and beautiful lady who is so often mentioned in his poems. She 
was the mother of one of his schoolmates, by whom Poe had been taken home for 
a visit. When he arrived she received him so cordiall}- and talked to him with so 
much kindness that he became strongly attached to her at once. The visit was 
often repeated, and as long as the lady lived Poe loved her with the greatest devo- 
tion. She was his confidante and a friend into whose ear he poured all the longings, 
the troubles, and the many other secrets of his peculiar poetic temperament. 
Her death was an overwhelming grief to him. Many sorrowful hours of mourn- 
ing- he spent over her grave, dwelling upon the weird and gloomy fancies that 
stamp his genius as different from all others. The poem, "To Helen," is ad- 
dressed to this lady, and so is " Lenore," which was written with another name 
when he was a boy, and was not revised and published in the form familiar to us 
until several years after he had beconu^ a man, 



Edgar Allan Poe. 415 

After five years in England, Mr. and Mrs. Allan came back to America, bring- 
ing' Edgar Avith them and placing him in an academ^^ at Richmond, which he at- 
tended until he was seventeen years old, then entering the University of Char- 
lottesville. He was a quick and able student, but by this time the sad faults of his 
character were becoming very strong, and after only one year he left the univer- 
sity with a great many gambling debts. Going back to Richmond, he lived with 
his foster parents for a couple of years, not seriously employing himself in any 
way except in writing poems, Avhich he published in a volume in the year 1829. 
This was his first step into literature, but neither he nor his foster father ex- 
pected him to become a man of letters by profession. They sometimes talked to- 
gether about the young man's future, and then Edgar said that he would like to 
enter the army. So in a few years Mr. Allan secured for him an appointment to 
West Point. Here he went further in the career begun at Charlottesville, 
neglecting his studies, drinking and gaming till, in the spring of 1861, he 
was cashiered and sent home in disgrace. Still patient and forbearing, his 
foster father received him kindly and treated him well. But a short time 
after his return he committed a deed so unprincipled in itself, so mean and 
ungrateful toward the gentleman who had given him unlimited benefits all his 
life, that Mr. Allan — justly and deeply offended — refused to be his father any 
longer, commanding him to leave his house and never to look to him again for 
home or support. 

Edgar Allan Poe, as he now called himself, was then about twenty-three years 
old, handsome in looks, winning in manners, rich in genius, with a strong though 
selfish love for some people, and no principle. He had many vices, was ungrate- 
ful to those who did the most for him, dishonest about money, and disloyal to his 
friends in all points of honor that stood in the way of his desires, whatever they 
might happen to be. 

Having now to earn his own living, he chose literature as his profession, and 
soon found regular employment in Richmond on the Southern Literary Messen- 
ger. In a short time he married his cousin, Virginia Clemm, who was a young 
and saintly creature, as poor as her husband, and about as little able to take 
care of herself. This lady and her mother loved Poe with the greatest devotion, 
while they also suffered more than any one else at his hands. Mrs. Clemm was 
— as Poe says in a beautiful poem — " more than mother " to him. 

Shortly after their marriage they came to New York, where, in 1848, Mrs. Poe 
died, shamefully left by her husband to the tender mercies of strangers, while he, 
in fitful mood, sought the society of others, repentant when he realized what he 
was doing, then forgetful when moved by his own selfish impulses or under the 
influence of liquor. This last was sometimes the case, but Poe was not a drunk 



416 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

ard, as many people believe ; and lie often strove very hard ag-ainst the other 
faults of his unfoi'tunate nature. 

These were the years of his great literary success. Of fame he soon had a 
full share, and also of friends, for in spite of his vices he was fascinating and 
lovable. 

The year after " sweet Virginia " died he returned to Richmond, and was soon 
engaged to marry another lady. On his Avay back from this visit, in some way 
that is not known, he became lost in Baltimore one evening, and after passing a 
night in the streets of the city, lying unconscious -with his face to the open sk}^, 
he was taken to the Washington College Hospital, where he died the next day — 
not from the efifect of liquor, as has been stated, but of exhaustion and exposure. 

Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts, in January, 1809 — the 
day of the month is unknown ; it is often stated as the 19th, but that is incorrect ; 
it was some time before tliat day. He died in Baltimore, Maryland, October 7, 
1849. 

The most truly American of all our poets is John Greenleaf Wliittier. 

He was but little influenced by the literature of other countries, his style was his 
own. He rose into fame by his stirring poems against American slavery in the 
old Abolition daj's, and nearly all his other works are upon the legends, the 
scenery, and the life of America. He wa,s the last to die of our four great American 
poets, who v/ere the first to attract any wide notice abroad, and to make a lasting 
fame in their own country. Poe, first of all, and after him both Longfellow and 
Bryant, have a greater fame abroad than Mr. Whittier, who was a modest, quiet 
New Englander by birth and a Quaker in religion. 

During his childhood he saw and felt a great deal of the old Quaker persecu- 
tion by the Puritans; and it was the bitter, narrow-minded hatred of one sect for 
another that made him realize, when very young, the great value of generous 
Christian feeling and brotherly love. This is the chief lesson he has tried to 
teach through all of his writings — and that every person should be allowed to 
think for himself, and be free to act according to his own conscience. 

He was born and brought up in the country, and in the country he always 
lived ; he loved nature, the forests and fields and rivers, and says much that is 
beautiful and true about them in his poetry, though his love for his fellow-men 
and desire for their good is the great thought in his writings. 

He began making verses when he was a boy following the plow; and before 
he was grown he sent some of them to a little country weekly paper called the 
Haverhill Gazette. He was very much afraid that the editor would not accept 
the first poem that he sent in, and it was with a great, surprising delight to him 



John Greenleaf Whittier. 



4r 



when one clay he opened the paper and actual 13^ saw his lines in print ; he was 
quite overcome and sat down by the roadside for a long time before he couid .ero 
on his way home. 

His boy life was spent mostly in hard work on the farm and at shoemal^ing. 
In winter he went to the district school, and read over and over the few books hls 




John Greenleaf Whittier. 

father owned. For years these were the only books he saw, for in the little Mas- 
sachusetts town of Haverhill there were then no public libraries, no reading clubs, 
and not even a debating society to sharpen the wits of the young folks. When 
Whittier was eighteen yeai^s old he spent a year at an academy or high school ; 
that closed his schooling. But he used even these poor chances for study so well 
that when he was twenty-two years old he became editor of a paper in Boston, 



418 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

and in the next year took a still more important position as editor of the New 
JSngland Weekly Bevietv. The yesiv after this he published his first book, which 
was not poetry, but a volume of prose sketches and leg-ends upon the life of the 
early colonists and the American Indians. He had a great deal of interest in 
these subjects, and soon beg'an to tell us man}' Indian tales and stories of the 
early Puritans in verse. Three 3'ears passed ; he wrote on many matters and 
printed one essa,y on slavery ; he was even then strongly opposed to it, and allied 
himself with the Abolitionists, his streng'th growing- with that of the societj^, till 
in later j^ears he was one of the g-reatest and most influential anti-slavery men 
in the country. 

He g-ave up his editorship after three years because he had been elected a mem- 
ber of the Legislature of Massachusetts, and over a 3'ear after that event he pub- 
lished his first volume of poetry. This was when he was twenty-eight years old 
and still a long way from being known as a great poet. 

About this time the slavery agitation was growing much stronger than it had 
ever been before. Whittier was helping it along grandly with his pen, and three 
years after the Anti-Slavery Society was formed in Philadelphia he removed to 
the Quaker City to become its secretary and to edit the Pennsylvania Freeman. 
Thus his time, talents, and zeal were mostly taken up in the cause of the negroes 
for several years. During the time he wrote many anti-slavery poems, which 
were collected in a volume called " Voices of Freedom," and published ten years 
after his first book of verses came out. They were far ahead of anything he had 
written before, and attracted a good deal of attention both at home and abroad. 
Every year or two after this saw a fresh volume from the pen of the new Ameri- 
can poet, and from that time onward his fame increased steadily. During the 
Rebellion he wrote many verses about the slaves, and about the scenes of war, all 
of which were read and copied and learned throughout the length and breadth of 
the North. 

Next to his war poems and those on slavery Mr. Whittier 's best verses are 
upon farm life and country scenes; and now that the peace is with us and the ne- 
groes are free, people take the greatest pleasure in his writings about home life, 
and the noble, religious sentiments that he expresses in his later works. As a 
poet he stands high in the literary world, but he said of himself that his first aim 
was never so much to write fine poetry as to write truths that would make people 
think and do right; other American poets have written on more varied subjects, 
and have shown a richer imagination than Whittier, but none have been purer in 
their works or their lives, and none have given us such beautiful pictures of many 
phases of American life and American feeling. 

One of our greatest critics says : Whittier has the soul of a great poet. He has 



Oliver Wendell Holmes. 41.9 

that vigor, truthfulness, and manliness of character ; that freedom from conven- 
tional shackles, I'eg'ardless of anj^body's idea of what is " high " or " low ; " that 
native energy and independence of nature, which form the basis of the character 
of every great genius, and without which poetr^^ is apt to be a mere echo of the 
drawing-room, and to idealize affectations instead of realities. His early poems 
were written when the country was tolerating-, even encouraging, great wrongs 
against which was roused all the nobility of the man and the fire of the poet. 
He seems in some of his h^rics to pour out his blood with his lines. There is 
a rush of passion in his verse which sweeps ever3'thing along with it. His later 
poems show more subtle imagination and delicate feeling as well as truculent 
energy. There is so much spiritual beauty in these little compositions that it is 
hard to understand how they can come from the man who awhile before poured 
out fiery torrents of passionate feeling against the wrongs committed by his fel- 
low-men. 

When he was about thirty-two, Mr. Whittier moved from Haverhill, Massa- 
chusetts, to Amesbury, and afterward to Danvers, where he has lived — still a 
bachelor — most of his subsequent years. His honor as a poet is heightened to all 
his countrymen by his blameless, upright life. In his noble old age he was loved 
by all who knew him and reverenced by the whole nation. 

His life was so quiet and uneventful that its story is soon told ; but his influ- 
ence for good upon his countrymen has been greater than that of most men who 
have taken prominent parts in public events. 

He had a great love for children and took great interest in their education 
and improvement, and in his later years he oftener came before the public as a 
writer of letters to children than in any other way. 

Mr. Whittier was born in Haverhill, Massachusetts, December 17, 1808. He 
died at Hampton Falls, New Hampshire, September 7, 1892. 

One year younger than Whittier, and also a native of Massachusetts, was 
Oliver Wendell Holmes, famous as a wit, a poet, a writer of excellent prose, 
and a man of science. His whole life was associated with the vicinity of Boston. 
He was born in Cambridge — before the nineteenth century reached its teens — in the 
old " gambrel-roofed " house that still stands facing Harvard College — from which 
he graduated when he was twenty years old, and with which he was very closely 
connected for more than fifty years. His first verses were written for the Col- 
legian, a paper conducted by the students, and many of his sinaller poems were 
written for the different reunions of his class — that of 1829. 

He started to study law after his graduation from Harvard, but soon decided 
to take up his father's profession and become a physician. Going to Europe he 
devoted himself to three years of very careful study in the hospitals of Paris and 



420 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

otiier large cities. After he came back to America he graduated from the Har- 
vard Medical School, and beg-an a ver^' skillful and successful career. Two yeare 
after receiving his diploma he took the chair of anatomy and physiology at Dart- 
mouth College, at Hanover, New Hampshire. Nine years afterward he was called 
to the same position in the Harvard Medical School, which is in Boston. Remov- 
ing to that city when he was thirty-eight years old, he made it his home, and 
lecturing in medicine his work. 

Dr. Holmes distingidshed himself as a poet while he was a student at Cam- 
bridge. Tlie 3'ear that he graduated from the Medical School, he published a vol- 
ume of poems, and although he only gave leisure time to writing, his genius became 
quite well known ; and ten years after he returned to the school as a lecturer he 
helped to found the famous Boston magazine, called the Atlantic Monthlijj for this 
he wrote a scries of sensible, rather humorous essays called the "Autocrat of the 
Breakfast-Table,'' which attracted a great deal of attention and praise, and won at 
once a lasting place in our literature. These papers and some of his othei- contribu- 
tions did a great deal to make the magazine a success, and also raised the name of 
Dr. Holmes to a place among the great writers of this century. They were followed 
by the "Poet" and by the "Professor at the Breakfast-Table," all of which 
abound in hmnor and wit and show a shrcAvd insight into human nature. These 
traits are also shown in many of his funny poems, of which the " One-Horse 
Shay " is the best known. As a song-writer — especially playful songs — he prob- 
ably stands above every other living* American writer. 

There is no other American poet who so successfully blends ludicrous ideas 
with fancy and imagination, keeping at the same time the high poetic qualities of 
sentiment and wording that are seen in serious poetry-. This is what it is to be a 
real comic poet, and a difficult and rare branch of art it is. Man^^ people can put 
a jest or a sharp saying into rhyme and do it so cleverly that they may be said to 
write good comic verse, but verse is not poetry. 

Holmes did not write bis funny poetry merely to make people laugh. With 
his happy phrases he hits off the liai'uiful and also the harmless faults of people 
in a way that helps but does not offend. He holds the mirror up to nature wittily 
and good-tempe redly, letting us " see oursel's as itliers see us," with a swift bit of 
sarcasm now and then to drive the shaft home. 

It was not always in a funn}" vein that this genial man of genius wrote. He 
was a lover of his fellow-men, of nature, and of science, and many of his best works 
have been in solemn appreciation of these things. The "• Chambered Nautilus," and 
the "Avis," with many of his hymns and other compositions, are serious, deeply 
thoughtful, and poetic works that for beauty and sentiment have few equals in 
the English language. He is — says one of our great critics — a poet of sentiment 



Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



421 



and passion; " Old Ironsides," "The Steamboat," "Qui Vive," and many pas- 
sag-es in " Poetry," show a true lyrical fire and inspiration; in these poems of 
fancy and sentiment there is so much exceeding- richness and softness in his diction 
that he would be almost too soft a poet but for the manly energy that shows itself 




Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



and the keen sense of the ridiculous which gives the finishing- touch that makes 
the complete and striking whole. Unlike Halleck, Holmes alwaj^s seems to bring 
in his witty strokes at just the proper place. 

Dr. Holmes was also a student of the science of the mind — called psychology — 
upon which he wrote several very important scientific essays and one remarkable 
and singular romance, called " Elsie Venner." 

He became an aged man — though few people realized it — leading a busy, happy 



422 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

life, surrounded by many friends; he was full of interest in the world's affairs and 
was always one of the first chosen to do honor to a distinguished guest in Boston 
or to celebrate a great event. 

In the midst of all these literary labors and many duties of social and public 
life, the doctor's most serious work was in his profession, where he was very skill- 
ful, both in theory and practice, and for which he wrote man}'^ valuable essays, 
beside his regular lectures to the Harvard students. 

Dr. Holmes was born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, August 29, 1809. He 
died at his home in Boston, October 7, 1894. 

Of all our men of letters, James Russell Lowell's name stands highest 
abroad. He has a greater name in Europe than in his own country; Amer- 
icans are only beg-inning- to i-ealize his true worth, though we have always 
known him to be a poet, wit, ci'itic, and scholar of more than usual gifts and abil- 
ity. Some of our best ci'itics began long- ago to point out to us his merit. One 
of them has said : " He lias shown the highest creative genius, with happiest facil- 
ity in expression. His early satires display unmatched wit and brilliant humor. 
While not so popular as others, some of his poems must be regarded as the gems 
of American literature. Excelling in poetry he tried criticism, and in that broad, 
humane art produced some of the finest prose." Another writer says : " His es- 
sa^^s on nature are brimful of delicious descriptions, and his critical papers on 
some of the great authors of the Old World are masterpieces of their kind." 

Truly great as a scholar, a poet, and an essaj'ist, Lowell stood above every 
one else in his knowledge of the Yankee dialect. He is almost the only writer who 
uses the peculiar New England forms of speech correctly — that is, as the Yanl^ees 
do themselves. For this reason Mr. Lowell's greatest fame rests on the " Bige- 
low Papers," the first of which were published in the Boston Courier in the year 
1848 — when the author was twenty-nine j^ears old. Though he had written a good 
many poems and essays which have since been read a great deal, his work had 
attracted very little notice so far ; but the coming out of these witty, shrewdly- 
sensible chapters of verses, giving in the real dialect and in a thoroughly Yankee 
way the opinions of ''John P. Bigelow " against the Mexican War and the slave 
power, drew forth the interest and hearty praise of half the countr}^ or more. 
The people he made fun of did not like the papers of course, but even they read 
them. When a second series upon the Civil War appeared, satirizing the neutral 
position taken toward us by England, Mr. Lowell was without a doubt the most 
popular humorous writer in the country. The best parts of these poems — which 
vary a good deal in excellence — are scarcely equalled, either in wit or in language, 
by anything of the kind in English literature. Between the times in which these 
two series came out, the Avorld learned that Mr. Lowell's genius was of a very 



James Russell Lowell. 



423 



broad and what is called versatile sort. He had noble, serious thoug-hts, they 
found. The "Legend of Brittany," the "Vision of Sir Launfal," and a number 
of other smaller poems of rare merit that had come out before 1848 were read and 
appreciated, and also the prose work, " Conversations on Some of the Old Poets," 
which, a celebrated teacher savs, every lover of literature should read. 

In 1854, when Longfellow resigned from the chair of Belles Lettres at Harvard, 
Lowell was asked to take his place. He returned to the grand old university a 




James Eussell Lowell. 

little more than fifteen years after ha gi-aduated from it — now a great man 
with a famous name, then a lad of poor standing in everything but literature and 
general knowledge. He only got his diploma because the faculty knew he had a 
great deal of ability in his own way, and that he bore the reputation of being the 
best read man that had ever passed through the college course. He was only 
nineteen years old then, and had spent more time in reading the best works he 
could find and following studies of his own choice than in poring over text-books. 
He did not by any means waste time at Harvard ; he read more in a month than 
many young men do in their whole lives. 

He had studied law for a time after he graduated, but that, too, was neglected 



424 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

for letters, and now at the age of thirty-five he was taking- the place of one of the 
most celebrated writers in the world in one of the greatest universities in America. 
He had not made a mistake in following- his natural bent. 

Professor Lowell's home in Cambridge was the beautiful old-fashioned house, 
called ''' Elmwood " — the one in which he was born, and where he always lived 
when in America. Here his father, a clergyman of the old line of New England 
Lowells, had lived, here he had spent his babyhood when his mother used to sing- 
him to sleep with famous old Eng'lish ballads ; here he had passed his boyhood, 
and grown into manhood amid surroundings of refinement and culture. His 
father was a man of learning- and eloquence ; rare and valuable books filled the 
library ; men and women of great minds visited the house, and g-ifted lads were 
his playmates — among- them, W. W. Story, the sculptor and poet, and the 
younger Richard Henry Dana, author of " Two Years Before the Mast." In this 
noble, elm-sheltered mansion, he had written his eai'l}^ works, and to this home he 
had broug-ht his sweet wife, Maria White — herself a poet — and it was from there 
that her spirit fled, when — as Mr. Long-fellow wrote to his bereaved friend in the 
poem of the " Two Angels " — 

" The angel with the amaranthine wreath, 

Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, 
Whispered a word that had a sound like death. 



And softly from that hushed and darkened room 
Two angels issued, where but one went in." 



Mrs. Lowell's death came two years before her husband beg-an to lecture at 
Harvard ; and four j^ears before he became the editor of the then newly started 
magazine called the Atlantic Monthly — a position that he held for about five 
years, to the g-reat benefit of the magazine. 

In his early days he had made a vain attempt to found an excellent literary 
journal in the Pioneer, but he had failed. Now the country was nearer ready for it, 
and he met with great success. Meanwhile, and through all after years, he kept 
on writing, and from time to time publishing, volumes of poems, grave and 
gay; and prose essays, full of wit, wisdom, and sound criticism, so that it was 
frequently said that Mr. Lowell had no equal among American writers in what is 
called versatility— that is, the ability to do many things and do them well. There 
is a union of mental strength with poetic delicacy in his work that is very unusual 
in the writings of one man. 

The American Government does not pay as much honor to American authors 
as do most foreign g-overnments to the writers of their countries, but it has long- 
been a custom in the United States to appoint prominent authors to represent our 



Ralph Waldo Emerson. . 425 







country abroad. When Mr. Hayes was President he sent Mr. Lowell as United 
States Minister to Spain ; two years later he was giveji the still more important 
ministry at the Court of St. James, in London. He proved himself to be a worthy 
representative, and was so much liked in Engiand that many tempting- offers were 
made to induce him to remain there after his term of office was over. His noble 
l)earing", refined, handsome face, g-racious manners, and delicate tact, as well as his 
g-reat mind, won for him much admiration and many friends. The Universities of 
Oxford and Cambridg*e bestowed upon him some of their hig-hest deg^rees for his 
genius and scholarship, and he was chosen Lord Rector of St. Andrew's Univer- 
sity in Scotland. But, though he had much love for Great Britain and the people 
there who have given him their confidence and cordial praises, he remained an 
American, and felt that he would not like to settle for the remainder of his life in 
any other land. 

James Russell Lowell was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, February 22, 
1819; and he died there on the 12th of August, 1891. 

Althoug-h many American authors have been successful writers of both j)oetry 
and prose essays, none can compare with Ralph Waldo Emerson in actual 
greatness of thoug-ht. He was born in Boston soon after the opening- of this cen- 
tury, and his long-, peaceful, busy life was one of steady influence for g-ood upon 
the minds and life of the whole civilized world. In his writing's he has left an 
ever-lasting- and ever-g-rowing- impression upon all modern literature. As a 
philosopher and essayist he is far beyond every other American, and few are 
equal to him as a poet. In all counti-ies he is regarded as one of the g-reat 
men of his ag-e. 

He came from a long- line of Puritan ministers, all of his Emerson grandfathers 
for seven g-enerations having- been preachers of the Gospel in New England. His 
parents designed him for the same calling, although he did not seem to be partic- 
ularly bright or clever about study when he was a little boy. At the age of eight 
years he was first sent to the Boston public school, where he was faithful and 
studious if not brilliant ; and when he was eleven years old he made better trans- 
lations from his Virgil than most of the boj^s in his class. His grandmother, Mrs. 
Ripley, wife of the famous old Concord pastor, and a wevy highly educated lady, 
took a great interest in her good little grandson, and in his progress in study. 
They used to write letters to each other in Greek when he was still in the public 
school. He was but fourteen years old when he entered Harvard College. There 
he was more interested in the books in the librar^^ than in his regular studies, and 
though he was not idle, his rank in general work was nothing more than medium 
high. But in some things he excelled, for, dmnng the course, he took two prizes 



426 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

for written essays and one for a declamation, and when his class graduated he was 
appointed by them the class-day poet. 

After he was throug-h college he taught for five j^ears in the school for girls 
kept by his brother William in Boston. At the same time he studied theology so 
as to be able before long to become a clergyman. 

He was such an earnest, truthful man, and so full of thought about religious 
matters, that it was natural for him to feel that he could probably do more good 
as a minister than in any other profession. Having- studied very broadl}' and 
deeply he took a high position as soon as he entered the clergymen's ranks, and 
at the age of twenty-six years, he was ordained as a fellow- worker of the Rev. 
Henry Ware in the Second Unitarian Church in Boston. 

He did not keep this position long ; it was his nature to think for himself about 
things, and he was very apt to think differently^ from the people around him ; he 
soon found that he did not think and feel about some Christian customs and doc- 
trines as did the other people in his church; he did not want to force them to think 
as he did, and he did not want to make any trouble in the church, so in less than 
three j^ears he resigned his position, and withdrew from the ministry entirely. 
This made a great stir in the church in Boston, and in many places further away. 
People thought it very strange and talked a great deal about it ; but Emerson 
knew his own mind and quietly carried out his purposes, much to the sorrow of 
his congregation, who were very fond of him. 

After tliis he went to Europe, and though he was an unknown man himself 
then, he met and made a life-long friendship with the great English writer, Thomas 
Carlyle. This meeting was one of the most important events that ever happened 
to either of them. 

It was after Emerson came back from this visit that he gave his first lecture, 
beginning his great career as a public speaker, before the Boston Manufacturers' 
Institute in his native city. He was not what we usualty call an eloquent man, 
and he had not a commanding presence ; but he had great thoughts, rich language, 
and force and power in all that he said, so that people who were the sort to care 
for what he had to say, listened intently and cherished every word he let fall. He 
was tall and thin, and had a singular, strong-featured face ; this was not handsome, 
but there was a great charm in its expression, which was often remarkably sweet 
and kindly. " A smile breaks over his countenance like day over the sky," George 
William Curtis once said of him. He soon spoke in otlier places as well as in 
Boston, and for many years after this he was one of the best known and most 
successful lecturers in the United States. 

Soon after his i-eturn from Europe he went to live in Concord, Massachusetts, 
and as the Sage of Concord, his name will always be associated with that little 



1 



Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



427 



village. There he lived most of his beautiful, gentle, helpful life, and there he 
wrote the great books by which the world knows him. Concord was a wonderful 
little place during a large part of this century. At one time, it was the home of 




'^\-' 



Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



four or five of the greatest literary men in this country ; they were all friends, 
some of them very intimate friends, and they enjoyed living simply and quietly, 
with each other for company, and the beautiful country" round about for their 
outside pleasures. It was a gifted, delightful company the^^ made, and a noble 



428 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

one, too, foi each in a different way was at work for the ^ood of his fellow- 
men. 

Emerson was one whose kindness and patience and hospitality never failed, 
althong-h he Avas often imposed npon by selfish people. He was always full of 
helpful sympathy for young- people who were trying- to make their way in the 
world ; and many a man and woman who finally reached success has had the 
Sage of Concord to thank for helping them over the hard places. 

Nearly fifteen years after his first visit to Eng-land he went there ag-ain. This 
time almost as famous as any man of his age. During- these fifteen years he had 
written a number of books, of both prose and poetry, which had made his name 
well known among- literary people wherever the English language was read. He 
was warmly welcomed by many disting-uished people and received great honors, 
but still his dearest friend was Caiij^le, who had thought as much of him when he 
was unknown as he did now. After he came back he wrote a book about England 
and Englishmen, called ''English Traits," which is generally thought to be one 
of the most notable works ever written by a traveler about what he had observed 
in a foreign countiy. 

Among- the g-reatest of his other books are volumes of essays and poems on 
various subjects, " Representative Men," " Society and Solitude," and the poems 
"May Day and Other Pieces," and "Parnassus." All that he wrote had the 
tendency to make people conscientious and honorable, for lie always showed that 
to do right was the most important thing in the world. Besides, there is a hope- 
fulness and cheerfulness in his writing-s that encourage people to try to be g-ood. 
This serene, happy truthfulness was a part of himself, and a beautiful grace that 
he kept throug'h his whole life, from childhood to old ag-e. 

Many ^-ears ag'o, when the g-reat author was still living-, a celebrated English 
critic wrote : " Emerson's is the most original mind America has yet produced. 
He has united in his single self much of the abstruse conception of the German, 
the ethereal subtlety of the Greek, and the practical acuteness of the American 
understanding. His insight is quiet and keen, but he sees because he has first loved. 
It IS his keen love for ' the beautiful, the true, and the pure ' in all men and all 
things, that is like a magic key that unlocks— as Emerson only has unlocked— the 
philosophy of all life. It is the things close about him of which he writes, and which 
he makes to tell us a wonderfully clear and simple story, before unthought of. 
There is a fine under-song- in his eloquence, which reminds you of the 'quiet 
tune ' sung- by a log- in the fire, to one sitting by it half-asleep at the eventide. 
Yet there is the teaching of a true oracle in the deep, mysterious sounds. The 
key to Emerson's entire nature and philosophy is love. A child-like tenderness 
and simplicit3^ of affection breathe in his writings. As a writer, his mannerism 



Henry David Thoreau. 429 

lies in the exceeding- unexpectedness of his transitions ; in his strang-e, swift, and 
sudden yoking's of the most distant and unrelated ideas ; in brevity and abrupt- 
ness of sentence ; in the shreds of mysticism which are left deliberately on the web 
of his thought ; and in the introduction, by almost ludicrous contrast, of the veri- 
est vulgarisms of American civic phraseology and kitchen talk amid the flights of 
ideahsm. His style falls often, as if dying away to the sound of music, into sweet 
undulations; sometimes into a certain rounded and rolling grandeur of ending," 

For the last few years of his life Mr. Emerson wrote nothing, but he was still 
interested in what other people wrote and said, and though afflicted with failing- 
health and a loss of memory, he was patient and g'entle, as he had always been. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston, Massachusetts, May 25, 1803. He 
died in Concord, Massachusetts, April 27, 1882. 

Another famous essayist and poet of Concoi'd was Henry David Thoreau. 

He was a friend of Emerson, though fifteen years younger than the great sage, 
and of Hawthorne, who was twelve j^ears his senior, and of many other men and 
women who were then gaining the highest rank in American literature. Thoreau 
was a naturalist ; and as a writer he has had a g'reat effect on literature without 
'ever having many readers. The people who care and have cared for him most 
are generall}^ other writers. He is best known as a lover of nature, and an ob- 
server of all out-of-door happenings. From the time that he was a little boy he 
loved trees and flowers, delighted in watching the sky and in enjoying the woods 
and fields. Neither Audubon nor Wilson — great as they were — had such close 
union with the world of nature as Thoreau. He lived his own life in that of " all 
out-doors ;" the trees, the flowers, and the birds were his intimate friends, and he 
carried no gun in his wanderings. 

His father and mother and his brothers and sisters were all bright, superior 
people, although none of them except Henry ever became famous ; but they all 
had something of the same odd ways that made him a very marked man in Con- 
cord. He had ideas and ways of his own, and an independence and carelessness 
of other people's opinions and customs that some of his acquaintances called 
eccentricities and others condemned as serious faults. 

His father made lead-pencils for a living, and Henry, along with the rest of the 
children, learned the same business. He was so skillful at it that some of the great 
men of Concord soon noticed his work and himself, and thought him a bright, prom- 
ising boy. Emerson, then a young man, was one of the flrst to find him out, and 
to interest himself in getting the lad into Harvard College. Thoreau's family 
were poor, but they loved education so well that they made great efforts to help 
pay his expenses. He himself worked through his vacations and did aU he could 



430 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

toward paying" his own way ; and his father and a sister and an aunt saved out of 
their scant earnings to help him. The rest of his needs were met through the 
influence of Emerson in getting- the colleg-e to assist him from a fund intended for 
the benefit of worthy students. Emerson only knew Thoreau then as a bright, 
studious son of a poor neig-hbor, but his kindly, sympathetic heart was touched by 
the young man's efforts to get an education, and he wished to do him all the favors 
he could. Afterward they became firm, life-long- friends. 

At college the young pencil-maker was a g-ood student, and by the time he 
g-raduated — which was when he was twenty j^ears old — he was a very promising 
scholar in the classics and in the Oriental lang-uag-es. For a short time after his 
course was finished, he taug-ht ; but he soon showed a strong- bent for a different 
sort of work, and as it was about impossible to do anything that did not come tc 
him naturally, he soon gave up teaching- for study and writing, althoug-h Mr. 
Emerson, Dr. Ripley, and several other noted people had taken the trouble to 
recommend him as a teacher. He had been writing- ever since he was seventeen 
years old. When he was about nineteen he had lectured for the Concord Ly- 
ceum, and in Concord the people were used to g-ood lectures. He had shown his 
interest in Indian history and relics by beginning- to make a cabinet of them be- 
fore he left college ; he. had also written for a remarkable little paper called the 
Dial before he was out of his teens, and he had been hunting and fishing, lov- 
ing nature and living in the woods ever since he was a child. All these things he 
liked better than school-teaching, and at last he had to give it up for them. Part 
of his time, though, was spent at the family trade. The Thoreaus still kept on 
making lead-pencils, and now they supplied publishers with powdered plum- 
bago — which was the waste from the lead of the pencils — to be used in electro- 
typing. This business and farming, together wath the money received for his 
lecturing and writing, gave Henr^^ his support, without taking all his time from 
study and outdoor wanderings. 

The money for the lecturing and writing was almost nothing at first, but it 
iucreased as he became better known. Horace Greeley was one of his most 
helpful friends; he did all he could for him, bujdng his writings and getting 
other people to buj' them. 

The chief event in his life was a very quiet one ; it was his going to live by 
himself for two j^ears in a hut in a beautiful wood near Concord by a little hoAx 
of water called Walden Pond. He did this because he thought he could write 
better there than anywhere else, and because he loved to watch the living crea- 
tures, the wood-flowers and all growing things, and wanted to see them constant- 
ly for a while. He wrote a book about his two 3'ears in the woods. It is called 
"Walden," and is better known than any other of his works. It is prose; he 



Margaret Fuller. 431 

also wrote some poetry, not easy to understand, but full of thought. In every- 
thing- that he wrote all the facts about nature — when the flowers bloom, how the 
different birds act when they come in the spring- and go in the fall — all such 
things as these are told with more care to be truthful and exact than almost any 
other American has ever shown ; he has given more attention to little things of 
this kind than perhaps any other writer of any country. He went nearer 
to the real heart of nature than any other American is ever known to have 
gone. He cared little for the society of people — was always a bachelor — and was 
never happier than when away from all human settlements, among the tenants of 
the woods. Birds and four-footed animals knew him for their friend, forgot to be 
afraid of him ; and he, in return, *' tolerated liberties from robin and woodchuck 
that would never been allowed a Webster or a Calhoun." 

In his manner, his dress, and his daily life he was very odd ; he was bred to no 
profession, yet he was a craftsman, a farmer, sometimes a land surveyor, a poet, 
a humorist, a scholar, a naturalist, a philosopher, and a philanthropist. He 
lived in the simplest way according to his own ideas of life. It is said that he 
never paid a tax to the State, never voted, and never went to church. Yet he 
was— says Emerson — " a person of rare, tender, and absolute religion, incapable 
of being profane. He grew to be reverenced and admired by his townsmen, who 
had at first known him only as an oddity, and many young men found him the 
man of men who could tell them all they should do." He was always ready 
to do what he thought was right at any cost. He was not always very wise, 
many of his friends thought, in his ideas of right and wrong, but they respected 
his principle ; and if any of them told him of what they thought were his faults, 
he listened kindly, considered their words, and never let the plainest criticism 
alter his friendship for the person who told him of his defects. 

Henry D. Thoreau was born July 12, 1817, at Concord, Massachusetts, where 
he died May 6, 1862. 

The most brilliant woman among these great New England writers was 
Margaret Fuller, afterward the Marchioness Ossoli. She was born and 
bred in Cambridge, the town of scholarship and learning. She came of an old 
New England family, in which there had been many men of unusual intellect ; her 
father was an able, scholarly man, who thought much of learning ; and, at one 
time or another, she had the acquaintance and often the intimate friendship of 
about all the great literary people of her day. 

Through a hard schooling of severe study under her father— who, proud of his 
daughter's bright, quick mind and wonderful promise, began to teach her Latin 
when she was six years old— and an equally hard schooling of house-work and 



432 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

care in a larg-e fami]3^, whose needs fell heavily upon her weak and gentle mother — 
Marg-aret Fuller grew into maidenhood, proficient in all common studies, under- 
standing the modern languages, and with more knowledge of Greek and Latin — 
it used to be said in Cambridge — than half the professors. She wrote Latin verses 
before she reached her teens ; philosophy, histor3^, and aesthetics — studies that 
most children scarcely know the names of at ten years — were her favorite subjects. 
Tasso, the great Italian poet, and Aristotle, the famous Greek philosopher, she 
read in their own languages when she was ten years old, and afterward she read 
German as easily as English, and was especial], y familiar with the poetry and 
novels of Tieck, and the philosophical essays of Schelling and Novalis. Spending 
most of her time, when not at house-work, with her blunt, scholarly father and 
other men, and too few leisurely hours with her graceful, sweet-mannered mother, 
she grew up without many of the gentle ways that are one of the greatest 
charms in woman, and she also suffered in health and in other waj^s from having 
been kept too closely to stud}^ ; but in spite of these disadvantages, as Margaret 
Fuller grew toward womanhood she was a most remarkable and attractive girl. 
Young as she was, she was already using her wonderful stimulating power on 
those around her. Her industry at study, her knowledge, and her quick, keen, 
powerful way of thinking, with the strong, decided manner in which she did every- 
thing, made many of her schoolmates admire her greatly, and also made them 
want to be like her and to do everything just as she did. As she grew older, she 
made friends among some of the intellectual men in Cambridge. They found 
great pleasure in talking with her ; they helped to guide her in choosing books to 
read and to study, and directed her mind toward the great German poet, Goethe. 
He became her favorite author, and when she came to be a writer in later years, 
she published an essay upon him, of which Emerson spoke very highly. " No- 
where," he says, ''did Goethe find a braver, more intelligent, or more sympa- 
thetic reader than in Margaret Fuller." 

After a while the Fuller family moved from Cambridge to Gro^on, and when 
Margaret was twenty-five years old her father died. This made it necessary for 
her to work in some way to support her little brothers and sisters, for she was 
the oldest child. It was about this time that she became acquainted with Emer- 
son. This was probably the most important event in her life. She had often 
heard him preach in Boston, and had long wished to know him, but she little 
thought that he would see in her such a superior woman that he would think the 
world ought to know her. Yet so it was. A few months after their first meeting 
he invited her to make a visit at his home in Concord, and from that time to the 
close of her life she was the intimate friend of himself and his wife. When he 
found that she wanted to earn money for the family, and that she hoped to do so 



Margaret Fuller. 433 

by teaching, he introduced her to many people who helped her at once to g-et a po- 
sition in Boston. In this way she became acquainted with many more great peo- 
ple, and. beside succeeding wonderfully in her teaching- and in lecturing to classes 
of ladies, she soon stepped into the still broader field of writing. 

She had a genius for teaching, a great love for peof>le, and a boundless desire 
for improvement, both in herself and others. She had. a remarkable power for 
rousing ambition in young people, and many New England boys and girls owe to 
the memory of Margaret Fuller a debt of gratitude for their success in life. 
Meanwhile she kept on eagerly with her own studies, whenever she could get a 
few moments or a few hours to herself. 

Her first literary work was the translation from German to English of Ecker- 
man's " Conversations with Goethe." It was undertaken when she was about 
twenty-eight years old, and in the next year she became the editor of the Dial. 
This was a famous little paper, for which many of the greatest thinkers and wri- 
ters of the day wrote, and which was published to spread the ideas of trancendent- 
alism — a school of philosophy to which some of the best and greatest intellectual 
people of the country then belonged. After she had been in this position for about 
five years, Miss Fuller accepted an invitation from Horace Greeley to go to New 
York and become a regular writer for the New York Tribune, and to take charge 
of its literary department. Beside the many valuable articles that she wrote for 
these papers, she did. them still greater service by her influence upon other writers. 
She stimulated everybody connected with them to write their best and to try to 
make their articles or reports better than they had ever been before. Before cver^'- 
thing* else it was her mission in life to help people to be constantly growing nobler, 
to have higher aims and do better work with every effort. Most of her best es- 
says came out either in the Big^l or the Tribune ; a few of them, like the Goethe 
critique, the " Summer on the Lakes," the " Papers on Literature and Art," and 
"Woman in the Nineteenth Century," have been saved from the quick death of 
most newspaper articles, and live in our literature as among the best things of 
their kind. 

But Margaret Fuller's character was so much more strongly marked as a 
woman than in any profession that it is her personal life more than her writings that 
is now remembered and talked about, and — more than all — felt. Her great love 
and helpful influence toward her friends, her active mind, her strong nature, 
these are the things that made her great ; these are the things that left the deep- 
est impression upon her vast circle of acquaintances. 

She went to Europe when she was thirty-six years old, and there added new 
names to her long list of friends. Thomas Carlyle was one of the great people 
with whom she was most intimate during her visit to England. In France she 



434 One Hundred Famous Americafis. 

met the great novelist, " George Sand," and in Italy she became acquainted with 
the Marquis Ossoli, to whom she was soon married. There was war in Italy at 
this time, and she not only took a very active interest in the great political ques- 
tions of the hour, but when, two years after her marriage, Rome w^as under 
siege, she took charge of one of the hospitals, and nursed the sick and wounded 
with Christian tenderness and devotion. 

After she had been away from America four years she and her husband and 
their one little child set sail for New York ; but the vessel never reached her port. 
It was struck b}^ a hurricane off Fire Island beach, and there, in sight of the land 
that held so many people dear to her, and where she was so g-reatly beloved, she 
was drowned with her husband and child. 

Margaret Fuller Ossoli was born in Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, May 23, 
1810. She died near the coast of Long Island, July 16, 1850. 

The g-reatest American writer on language, Noah Webster, came into the 
world with the fathers of our most famous group of authors. He lived his 
useful life and compiled his great dictionary when they w^ere little children — or be- 
fore they w^ere born — and passed away when Emerson and Hawthorne were just 
growing into manhood, and when Margaret Fuller was a little girl scarcely old 
enough to read. 

He, too, was a New Englander — a farmer's bo}^ with a strong bent for studj". 
He prepared for college, and, when he was sixteen, set out from his home at Hart- 
ford to become a student at Yale. The Revolutionary War began the next .year, 
and, young- as he was, Webster joined the militia company to which his father 
belonged, and did his share in fighting the English. Yet he kept on with his 
studies, and graduated when he was twenty years old. On his return home his 
father gave him an eig'ht dollar bill of Continental currency — woi'tli about four dol- 
lars in real money — saying, " That is all I can do for for you, Noah ; 3^ou have an 
education now, and you will have to support yourself." He had made up his mind 
to become a lawyer, but he first began teaching in Hartford. By this means he 
could pay his way, but could not afford to hire a teacher in law, so he obtained 
some books, and soon was hard at work studj'ing by himself in leisure hours. 
After about two years spent in this way he passed his examination and was ad- 
mitted to the Connecticut bar the year in w^hich the British surrender was made 
at Yorktown. 

The country Avas still poor, and had very little money to pvit into law business; 
so Mr. Webster soon Avent back to his teaching, this time in New York State. Be- 
fore he had been there long he began a work that influenced all his future life. 
He knew that the school-books then used were very poor, and thought that they 



Noah Webster. 



435 



might be much improved, so he resolved to make a new grammar and also a spell- 
ing-book. They were so successful that he soon began thinking about the need 
of a dictionary, though it was not until some time later that he undertook to 
make one. This spelling-book became popular all over the country, and millions 
of copies are still used every year. 

In addition to teaching and the making of school-books and lecturing upon the 
English language, Mr. Webster had many other interests, especially in the poli- 




NoAH Webster. 

tics of the country. At that time, when the United States had no President 
and was governed by Congress under the old Constitution, he edited a paper 
called Governor Winthrop's Journal, and strongly advocated a new Constitution 
in a series of able papers entitled "Sketches of American Policy." Ten years 
after, when the new Constitution had been adopted, and Washington's second term 
was almost at its close, he came forward again with strong, timely aid . This was 
when the people were dissatisfied with the treaty made between America and 
England by John Jay. Many leading men in the country were so bitterly opposed 



436 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

to it that they even attacked the Government. But the best statesmen knew it 
was a wise arrangement, and Mr. Webster defended it in a number of articles that 
were so able and so easily understood that they had a great effect in changing- the 
popular feeling- to one in favor of what had been done. Some statesmen have said 
that these articles did more than anything else at that time for the peace and pros- 
perity of the country". 

Shortly before this Mr. Webster had married the daughter of William Green- 
leaf, of Boston, and after living for a few j^ears in New York City, he moved with 
his family to New Haven, where most of the rest of his life was spent. He was a 
man who was a valuable citizen to any city. Philadelphia had been enriched by 
his presence while he taught an academy there in 1788, at the same time writing 
letters upon the Federal Constitution ; after that he lived for a time in New 
York City where he tried to start a high-class journal called the American 
Magazine, but the country was not yet settled enough to support this sort of 
literature. Then when it failed he founded and became the editor of a Federal 
daily paper called the Minerva, and its semi- weekly edition, the Herald, which 
was the first of its kind in America. The names of these were soon changed to 
those of the Commercial Advertiser for the daily, and the New York Spectator 
for the semi-w^eekly ; and so they have remained ever since. They were the lead- 
ing papers of the Federal party as long as it lasted ; then they were in favor of 
the National Republican, the Whig, and finallj^ of the present Republican parties 
as the changes came one after another. 

After removing to New Haven, Mr. Webster devoted himself to literar^^ pur- 
suits, and before long he began the great work of his life — that of preparing a new 
American dictionary of the English language. This required hard and constant 
labor for years. No large new dictionary of the English language had been pub- 
lished in sevent^^ years, and in the meantime a great many new words had come 
into use, many old ones had grown to have new meanings, and some had dropped 
out altogether. Mr. Webster spent years making lists of these new words, and 
gathering the new definitions to the old ones. After he had undertaken the dic- 
tionary, he found that he needed to know more about the formation of words — ety- 
mology, the science is called — and so he devoted ten years to its study. He made 
a synopsis or list of words in twenty languages, and then began his undertaking 
afresh. Before it Avas finished he went to Europe to consult with learned men, and 
to visit the large European libraries in search of knowledge to be used in his great 
work. Soon after his return — and at the close of seven years of devoted labor — the 
famous book was published. Not long after its appearance liere a still larger 
edition was published in England, where, though called the "American Dictionary 
of the English Language," it has ever since been considered a standard authority. 



Koah Webster. 437 

Even during- these years of hard and earnest Uterary work, he did not give his 
whole time and attention to his own alTairs, but was interested in the welfare of 
his neighbors and did a great deal by helping- to org-anize literary societies and by 
freely lending- the books from his larg-e library to help others to improve them- 
selves. He also kept up his interest in national affairs, and published several 
pamphlets and articles on matters of public importance. One of his g-reatest ser- 
vices to his countrymen at this time was in securing- a national copyright law — that 
is, a law which gives to the writer of a book the right to publish it or have it pub- 
lished as he pleases, and forbids anybody to print copies of it without his permis- 
sion and without paying- him for the pi'ivileg-e. 

One of the things that helped Mr. Webster to do such a great amount of useful 
work during- his lifetime was his love of order. He always had his affairs ar- 
rang-ed with system, and kept his papers sorted and put away so carefully that he 
never had to waste time looking- for what he wanted. His friends loved him for 
his pleasant, dignified manners and his true Christian kindness of heart as much as 
for his great intellect ; and his large family of children Avere benefited even more 
by the good training he gave them than by his g-reat fame and learning-. 

Noah Webster was born in Hartford, Connecticut, October IG, 1758. He died 
in New Haven, Connecticut, May 28, 1843. 



EDITORS AND JOURNALISTS. 



One of the first names in the records of journalism in America is that of 
Nathan Hale, wlio was for ahnost fifty years tlie editor of New England's 
first and still its greatest daily newspaper, the Boston Daily Advertiser. He 
was a man of thirty, when in the third year of om' War of 1812 he bought and 
became editor of this journal — then a little sheet, scarcely more than a yea^r old ; 
and it was only at the call of death, when the country was in the third year 
of the Civil War, that he gave up his post. The paper had grown meanwhile to 
be the most important in New England, and one of the foremost in the country. 
Excepting the last ten, these years were to Mr. Hale filled with very hard work 
and constant activit}^ in all the labors that a growing and powerful daily news 
paper and an earnest life of broad public interests demanded. 

Mr. Hale was the nephew and namesake of heroic Nathan Hale, the "patriot 
spy of the Revolution ; " his father was an honored Congregationalist preacher 
of Westhampton, Massachusetts, and a man of so much learning that he fitted 
Nathan to enter Williams College when the lad was onlj^ sixteen years old. 
Graduating in 1804 young Hale chose to become a lawyer, and went to Troy, 
New York, to study ; but after a few months he was asked to teach mathematics 
in Phillips Academy at Exeter, New Hampshire, and the next five years of his 
life were spent in that way. Finally, when he was about twenty-five years old, 
he removed to Boston, finished his law studies, became a member of the Suffolk 
bar, and began a promising practice. Young lawyers are rarely crowded with 
clients, and many of the spare hours that Mr. Hale had at this time he spent in 
writing. In a short time he became associate editor with Mr. Henry D. Sedg- 
wick, of the Boston Weekly Messenger, one of the leading New England papers 
of the da3'. There were then no important daily papers in any part of the coun- 
try, and what few weekly journals there were had little merit. Several active, 
able men of Boston felt that this want of good newspapers was a great misfort- 
une to the country. So, securing the services of Mr. Hale — who had a real 



Nathan Hale. 



439 



genius for journalism — they tried to make the Messenger such a paper as they 
thought the country needed ; and their efforts were successful. It was then that 
some of the first distinct features of American journalism had their birth. The 
Messenger — that is, Mr. Hale — began the practice of discussing- public questions 
in occasional " leaders," or editorials, and it was also the first American journal 




Nathan Hale. 

to talk about and intelligently explain European politics and history ; it soon 
gained a reputation throughout the country for the clear way in which it de- 
scribed and talked about the politics of the end of Napoleon's reign. 

Not long after Mr. Hale had become well established as the leading spirit 
of this paper, it became plain that its usefulness might be much extended ; so, 
in the year 1814, with the help of the good, enterprising old Judge Lowell— 
the godfather of the city of -Lowell — the editor of the Messenger bought the 
Advertiser — the new little daily paper, which was as yet more of a business 



440 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

journal than a political one. Into this enterprise Mr. Hale put forth his best 
gifts and the results of his experience on the Messenger. From the first day 
it became a favorite with the Boston merchants, the people of best education, 
and with the leaders in thought and the Federal party. Its signs of success 
were so sure that Mr. Hale soon launched out boldly into enterprises for raising 
its standard and strengthening its hold on the public. Gradually it absorbed the 
best features, the circulation, the advertising, and the good- will of every political 
and commercial journal in Boston, and of many outside of the city — for this was 
in the "era of good feeling," when James Monroe was President, and when no 
real division of party existed in the nation. 

As long as the Federal party lasted, the Advertiser was a Federalist. Then, 
moving along with the changes in the times, but without much altering its policy, 
it stanchly supported the Whigs, and after that became one of the greatest 
organs of the present Republican party — a position that it still holds. In 1828, 
when the North took up the Protective Tariff, Mr. Hale w^rote a pamphlet on 
that policy which became the basis of the protective tariffs of the United States 
from that day to this. 

Always quick to adopt new improvements in the methods and machinery of 
his business, Mr. Hale was one of the first men in this country to set up a steam 
printing-press and to adopt the process of stereotyping. In many such steps he 
led the way, in which other publishers followed ; but greater ever than his busi- 
ness enterprise was his power as an editor. He was a man of excellent education ; 
he understood foreign languages — it is said that he once published the translation 
of an entire French journal that was filled with important news— he had clear, 
sound views on public matters and a wide interest in the growth and improve- 
ment of the people and the country, an extensive and accurate knowledge about 
practical matters of the time, a cautious and sober judgment, and great purity 
and integrity of personal character. All this was stamped upon his paper ; the 
editorial columns expressed his own personal opinions and w^ere w^ritten by his 
own hand — it was not till near the close of his long career that he w^ould allow 
any one else to write these articles, though most of the papers that had copied the 
editorial feature from the Advertiser employed various writers for that depart- 
ment. Mr. Hale never lost sight of his responsibility as a leader of public opin- 
ion. He would not express his views upon any public subject until he felt that he 
had mastered all the facts necessary to form a wise and correct opinion. He 
would rather be no leader at all than not to lead in the right direction. He was 
exceedingly modest and reserved, but he had no weakness in his character. Some 
one who knew him once said that he carried as bold and brave a heart, as firm and 
unwavering principles as ever filled a human breast ; no man could intimidate 



Nathan Hale. 441 

him, and nothing could tempt him to do wrong or to use his columns for unwor- 
thy purposes. 

Another marked feature about this paper was its care about stating the truth, 
and not printing rumors until it knew them to be correct. Those were the days 
when accurate news did not travel as fast as it does now, and many papers 
sparkled with startling statements one day that had to be corrected the next, 
Mr. Hale's idea was that it is worse than Improper or impolite to tell a lie. He 
looked upon it as wrong. Many of his brilliant rivals who enjoyed making a 
great fuss over a rumor called the Advertiser " slow," and finally it came to be 
well known by the satirical title of " the respectable daily." Most of these petty 
taunts were not worth regarding, but in this last title the accurate editor took a 
real pride. He wished no higher praise than to conduct a journal that deserved 
and enjoyed the respect of the most intelligent people in the country ; he was 
happy to be " respectable," to have his readers know that they could rely on his 
statements. For this he could afiford to give up the credit of "smartness," 
gained by recklessly stating doubtful facts, boldly uttering crude opinions, and 
also by the wanton attacks on private character m which some journals of the 
time showed off the most brilliancy. 

In those days the Advertiser was the only paper of literarj^ merit in Boston. 
Edward Everett and his gifted brother, Alexander, Daniel Webster, Prescott, 
Ticknor, and scores of others from among the ablest men and women in the coun- 
try were constant writers for it. Mr. Hale himself had good taste in these matters, 
and his wife — a sister of the Everetts — who was an accomplished scholar, was a 
very valuable helper in this department. The early poems and articles of some 
of our first writers were published in these columns, and its reviews were often 
among the first to see and point out the genius of Bryant and other young authors 
of that day. 

Thus the honored editor of the Boston Daily Advertiser used his enterprising 
spirit, not to enlarge the glory of his paper, but to push forward all kinds of pub- 
lic good. His chief aim was to make it a power for the benefit of the country and 
its readers. 

In a thousand ways — it has been said — he served his city, his State, his coun- 
try, and his fellow-man. He was a stanch supporter to every worthy cause. He 
was a man of very profound and exact information ; he was interested in let- 
ters and art ; in the Massachusetts Historical Society ; in religious matters — an 
earnest Christian — in civil engineering-, and all kinds of internal improvements. 
He is called the father of New England railroads. From the first that was known 
about this mode of traveling, he appreciated its advantages more than any 
other man in New England. He advocated it and explained its details in his 



442 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

paper. He did more than any other person to have the Boston and Worcester 
Raih'oad org-anized and built, first by convincing- his readers of the advantages to 
be liad from railroads ; then by persuading- capitalists to invest their money in the 
enterprise, and at last by securing- for it a charter in the Legislature, to which he 
was often a member. When the corporation was oi'ganized he was made its first 
president, and he held the office for nineteen years. It was also chiefly due to 
him that the Cochituate water was brought into Boston for the city water supply. 
He was a member of both the constitutional conventions of Massachusetts — the 
one of 1820 and of 1853 ; five times he was elected to the Leg-islature, and a brilliant 
political career was opened to hiin more than once ; but he chose instead to be a 
faithful editor of a " respectable daily," not for himself — for he made no g-reat 
fortune — but for the benefit of his country and his countrymen. 

In this his life was a g-rand success. A g-reat New York daily once said that 
the tone and character which he g-ave to the Advertiser form an epoch in the 
history of American journalism. For almost fifty years he was held in the 
hig-hest respect as a journalist and a citizen, and as a man of wisdom, industry, 
public spirit, and almost unequaled influence throughout New Eng-land. 

Most of the men of his own ag-e, and many of the younger ones who laiew him, 
have now passed away, but a few still live wiio cherish the memory of his thought- 
ful face and pensive e^^e, and can still tell us of the flush and the light that used 
to overspread his countenance when he saw the fulfillment of the great objects for 
which he labored. He left his paper in the hands of his son, the Honorable 
Charles Hale, who with a g-enius equal to that of his father, spent his life in its 
service. Though he, too, has now passed away, the Boston Daily Advertiser, 
in spite of all its powerful rivals, still holds its place as the leading- — and the ''re- 
spectable " daily of New Eng-land. 

Nathan Hale was born at Westhampton, Massachusetts, Aug-ust 16, 1784. H^ 
died at Brookline, a suburb of Boston, February 8, 1863. 

While New Eng-land, and especially Boston, was the home of the first news- 
papers of this country. New York City has long- been the real seat of American 
journalism. It is here that our g-reatest dailies were born, and for almost a cen- 
tury it has been regarded as the fountain-head of all newspaper enterprise. 

No man has done more to g-ive New York its g-reat newspaper reputation than 
James Gordon Bennett, the founder of the New York Herald. Not many 
people wiio read that famous sheet now can remember the day when it first came 
out, or even know the stor}^ of its birth. This happened in a Nassau Street cellar 
in the summer of 1835, near the close of General Jackson's second term as President, 
and when people were beginning- to talk about having- Martin Van Buren to take 



James Goj^don Bennett. 



443 



Jiis place. The Herald started as a little one-cent paper, and was about as larg-e as 
a sheet of foolscap. It was brig-ht and saucy, having- its say about almost every- 
thing-, and aiming- to tell New York what was g'oing- on in the world, especially in 
the United States. The establishment was on as small a scale as the paper, if not 
smaller. The cellar office was furnished with two emptj^ flour barrels that sup- 
ported a g-ood-sized pine board, which served as a table and held a pile of the day's 
papers on the end that was nearest the steps. The center was the desk of the pro- 




James Gordon Bennett. 

prietor, editor, reporter, bookkeeper, clerk, office-boy, and in fact the entire staff 
of the Herald establishment in the person of a "tall, vig-orous looking man, then 
about forty years of age." He sat in the only chair in the office, which was a 
plain wooden one, and stood behind the board. Scissors, pens, inkstand, papers, and 
pencil occupied the other end of the board, at the right hand of the busy man who 
looked up from his work when people came in, and, often without speaking, 
allowed them to help themselves to the Heralds and add their cent to the pile on 
the table, wrote out advertisements for them, or received their orders, whatever 
they might be, and returned to his writing as soon as possible. 

It was a tiny business, the unpromising- beg-inning of a great enterprise. Its 
proprietor was a Scotchman, who, when he was a lad, had read the Autobiography 



444 One Hundred Famons Americans. 

of Benjamin Franklin, and had joined a young- friend in coming- to America, 
mostly from a desire to see the place where his hero was born. He had not found 
everj'^thing- ready to receive him here. The short time he spent in Halifax, after 
landing-, was a very hard one, for he only brought money enough to pay about two 
weeks' board, and suffered privations and hardships to avoid using it until he saw 
the chance of g'ctting- more. Gradually he worked his way to the city where 
Franklin was born, but Boston g-ave him as cold a welcome as Halifax, and he 
spent his last pennj^ there before he found any work. He was too proud to beg-, 
and almost two days went by without his having- a bit of food. He was able to 
bi^eak this wretched fast by a happy accident. One morning- as he was walking- 
along- Boston Common, wondering why, in a whole city full of business, he, willing- 
and able, could find nothing to do, he saw a shilling- lying- in his path. Scarcely 
believing his e^^es, he picked it up. It was a true shilling- ; it bought him food and 
g-ave him courage for another trial in his wear3^ search, which soon ended in his 
finding- employment in the bookselling and publishmg- business. He became a clerk 
and proof-reader for Wells & Lill^' ; but the firm did not last long, and with his 
earnings in his pocket, and some little record in the publishing business, he came 
to New York. This -was in 1822, and James Gordon Bennett was then a man of 
almost thirty years of age. He taught school, lectured on political economy, gave 
lessons in Spanish, and finally took a place in a printing-office, where, for all kinds 
of diuidge-work, he managed to earn from five to eight dollars a week, sometimes 
getting a little outside work from publishers that added a trifle more to his 
income. 

By and by he went to Washington to act as correspondent from the capital 
during Congress for the New York Enquirer. The newspapers of those days had 
nothing to compare with the great corps of editors, correspondents, and reporters 
now belonging to every sizable journal, and so it was a brand-new thing when young 
Bennett sent up some spicy, gossipy letters about Washington people and society, 
which he modeled after Horace W^alpole's bright society letters that he had come 
across in the Congressional Library. As he did not sign his name this happy 
thought gave him no fame, and therefore little monej^ ; but the popularity of his 
letters gave him an idea of what people like to read in a newspaper, and that was 
worth a good deal; 

Although he "worked hard and faithfully at different kinds of journalism, 
especially of a political sort, for some time, he seemed to make scarcely a moder- 
ate success of life. But all the while he was gaining a wide experience, and 
although he was m the midst of many bad influences, he kept his own habits 
good and pure, making, as he said himself, social glasses of wine his aversion and 
public dinners his abomination. 



James Gordon Bennett. 445 

In 1835 he had two or three hundred dollars saved, and with this he set up his 
newspaper, his long-desired enterprise of a paper of his own. " The little Herald 
was lively, smart, audacious, and funny ; it pleased a g-reat many people and 
made a considerable stir ; hut the price was too low, and the range of journalism 
was then very narrow\" Every effort was made toy the other daily journals to kill 
the Herald, and, industrious, atole, and energetic as its owner was, he would proto- 
atoly have failed if it had not been for a youug Englishman named Brandeth, who 
wanted very much to find some cheap and effective way to tell the public about 
his pills. It was a fortunate event for Mr. Bennett and his paper when this j^oung 
doctor paid a visit to the Nassau Street cellar and agreed with him to advertise 
Brandeth's pills regularly in the Herald. By this arrangement a certain amount 
of money was sure to come to the paper every week ; it gave the hard-working 
editor some encouragement to keep on — he had often been in doubt on Saturday 
night about money for the next week's issues — and, with his " indomitable charac- 
ter, his audacity, his persistence, his power of continuous labor, and the inex- 
haiistible vivacity of his mind," he did keep on, through ups and downs, doubts 
and discouragements, which were at their worst during the first year. After that 
the price was doubled and prosperity kept steadily increasing till the Herald be- 
came of first importance not only in this country, but in othei^s, bringing to its 
founder the largest revenue which had ever resulted from journalism in the 
United States, and finally becoming the most valuable newspaper property per- 
haps in the world, certainly in this country. 

It was not one era, but several, that Mr. Bennett made in journalism. The 
very beginning was the first one, when, with five hundred dollars in cash added 
to an unknowai capital in brains, and a vast amount of experience as a newspaper 
reporter, correspondent, assistant editor, editor, and owner, gained through many 
changes, this journalistic scientist gave his first little sheet to the country Avith its 
plain-spoken announcement. " Our only guide," this read, " shall be good, sound, 
practical common-sense, applicable to the business and bosoms of men engaged in 
every-day life. We shall support no party, be the organ of no faction or coterie, 
and care nothing for any election or any candidate from President down to a 
constable. We shall endeavor to record facts on ever^^ public and proper subject, 
stripped of verbiage and coloring, with comments wdien suitable, just, independ- 
ent, fearless, and good-tempered. If the Herald wants the mere expansion which 
many journals possess, w^e shall try to make it up in industry, good taste, variety, 
point, piquancy, and cheapness. It is equally intended for the great masses of 
the community — the merchant, mechanic, work-ing-people — the private family as 
well as the public hotel, the journejanan and his emplo^^er, the clerk and his prin- 
cipal." The editor promised to "give a correct picture of the world — in Wall 



446 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Street — in the Exchang-e — in the PoHce-office — at the Theater — in the Opera — in 
short, wherever human nature and real life best display their freaks and vaga- 
ries." 

A writer who knows the full history of this great enterprise says : "There 
were constant improvements in the art of making- newspapers m the Herald es- 
tablishment. Mr. Bennett devoted his whole time and thought to journalism. He 
was a walking- newspaper. After he started the Herald the success of his jour- 
nal was the aim of his life. Early and late he attended to his business. No 
political office had any attraction for him ; to increase his circulation ; to improve 
and fill his advertising- columns ; to obtain the best correspondents ; to g-et the 
news to his office before any of his contemporaries had it, were his ambition. To 
accomphsh these points he would spare no expense." 

It was in doing- this that Mr. Bennett — who did about all the brain- work on the 
paper himself for a long- time — introduced one important new feature after an- 
other into the methods of newspaiier-making-. He was the first to publish Wall 
Street i-eports and money articles, which now have an important place in eveiy 
g-reat journal ; it was the growth of his paper that called forth the need of better 
means of circulation than the old carrier system and it was his enterprise that 
final 13^ led to the forming- of ncAvs companies. 

The wonderful little paper met with wliat at first seemed a g-reat misfortune 
when it was about three months old — the whole establishment was burnt up. But 
Mr. Bennett was unharmed, and he was the Heixtld, In a very short time it was 
g-oing- again, and instead of sharing- the ownership as he had had to before, he 
noAv ran the business all alone with greater genius and enterprise than ever. He 
ojiened its second era with another in journalism — a "cash s^'stem " of payment. 
Profiting b^^ the experience of other publishers who had lost thousands of dollars 
in bad debts, Mr. Bennett resolved that he would neither do a credit business for 
others nor ask others to do it for him. It was almost unheard of with newspapers 
then ; it is now the g-eneral policy. 

A year after the fire the Herald became a two-cent paper, for the public 
would rather pay double the original price than for one day to miss the brig-ht, 
original, newsy little sheet. A few months later a Weekly Herald was begun, 
and with it journalism saw another new feature in the summaries of news, which 
Mr. Bennett afterwards introduced into his daily issuers, and which to busy people 
has long- been one of the most valuable features of the paper. In the next year 
wonderful strides forward were made in methods of collecting- hews — steam and 
electricity not being- in common use then — and this was followed by imjjrovements 
in all departments of gathering- and presenting- news. The first newspaper " war 
map" was published in the Herald, on the 5th of January, 1838; news-boats 



James Gordon Bennett. 4 ±7 

were also adopted for it in that year, and in the middle of March the first double 
sheet made its appearance to g-ive more room for the commercial reports and 
other articles upon the material interests of the country that had been introduced, 
and also for the important speeches made at the government capital upon the 
United States Bank and other great public matters. In this same year Mr. 
Bennett also undertook illustrating- scenes connected with the important events of 
the day, and this, with the maps of war, of burnt districts after great fires, and of 
localities about which there was any special interest, made a beg'inning for the 
pictorial press in which Harper brothers and Frank Leslie have since made them- 
selves great and have become known as the fathers of illustrated journalism in 
America. It was also in 1838 that Mr. Bennett went to Europe — on the return 
trip of the little steamer Sirius — and made extensive arrangements for forming a 
regular European staff of writers and reporters to his paper on all matters of 
general interest. " Travelers' letters " and " observers' notes " had been known 
in American papers before ; but this was the first foreign news bureau ever estab- 
lished. 

The next years saw other new steps, the most important of which were the full 
and careful reports of sermons and religious news, and a great increase of all 
kinds of advertising — the Herald's advertisements are now a more important 
feature than almost any other in the entire newspaper world. In 1844 a private 
overland express was opened to New Orleans for the purpose of bringing news of 
the Texas and Mexican affairs to the Herald. It was the first express of the 
kind ever run, and beat the Great Southern mail frohi New Orleans to New York 
by from one to four days. Soon after this the telegraph was introduced, and 
Mr. Bennett was of course among the very first to make use of its services. The 
first " interview " ever published came out in the Herald. In 1859, at the time of 
John Brown's celebrated raid, one of the regular reporters went out to Peters- 
borough to see Mr. Gerrit Smith, the Abolitionist, and had a long talk with him 
about the affair at Harper's Ferry. The next day, when the conversation was 
printed, it made a great sensation, and the fashion for "interviewing" became 
popular at once. When the first shots on Fort Sumter opened the Civil War, Mr. 
Bennett already had half a dozen correspondents in the South, and when the first 
Union Army was organized a Herald corps of both army and navy correspon- 
dents was also fitted out. There was a Herald wagon and a Herald tent with 
perfect equipment and careful attention from home with every corps of the army ; 
and no fight, no movement of any importance took place that was not reported to 
the Herald by an eye-witness, taking his chances of the dangers of battle and im- 
prisonment with the soldiers. It has been said that no history of the war can be 
complete with the incidents connected with these war correspondents omitted. 



448 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Other jowrralis were aiso represented, and largely, but the Herald stood first. 
During the four years of the conflict it spent half a million of dollars on this one 
enterprise, and was well repaid for it too. 

Mr. Bennett made many enemies in his paper, and as a man he had some qual- 
ities that people did not like ; but as an editor, a journalist, and a newspaper owner 
he was more admired than almost any man in his profession. It is said that 
America has never had a greater journalist, nor any citizen who has been more 
abused or more praised during his public career. His success was unexampled, 
and was won by great foi-esight, energy, and industry. The New York Times 
once said : " He was never connected with jobs, either in State or National politics; 
he never swore allegiance to any party, and he built up the great newspaper which 
he controlled solely by his own genius, courage, and pertinacity. His mind is 
characterized by originality of thought and wit in equal proportions ; and he has 
always appreciated the value of news. These elements — independence, originality, 
wit, courage, and news — have made the success of the Herald, and this success 
there is nobody to dispute." 

James Gordon Bennett was born at New Mill, Keith, Banflfshire, Scotland, 
September 1, 1795. He died in New York City, June 1, 1873. 

It was sometime during the year after the close of the Rebellion that Mr. Ben- 
nett, full of years and full of honors, took his son and namesake into his sanctum 
and taught him the m^^steries of his wonderful establishment and its success; 
and James Gordon Bennett, Jr., was a pupil worthy of his teacher. When, 
at his father's death, he became the sole owner of the Herald, he was perfectly 
able to undertake its management. He was already acquainted with the ins and 
outs of the vast business, and he soon proved that he was in every way fitted to 
take his father's place. He has the same remarkable talent for journalism, with 
a boldness and foresight in enterprise that is most wonderful, and has actually in- 
fluenced the age throughout the whole world. " He is assisted by a corps of thirty 
or more editors, among whom are some of the brightest intellects and ablest 
writers of the country. A council of editors is held daily. Whether present or 
absent, Mr. Bennett breathes into tliis council the tone and policy of the paper ac- 
cording to his own idea. When not present he reaches his associates b^^ wires, 
whether in Europe or America, and directs the course of his paper. He is a lib- 
eral patron of the telegi'aph, and before his own — the Bennett-Macka^^ cable — was 
built he had s})ent, for special services since the completion of the cables, ovei a 
quarter of a million in gold. Mr. Bennett is manager in detail as well as in gross. 
It costs several millions a yesx to run the Herald, and its profits are at least 
eight hundred thousand a year. Less than ten years ago be refused the offer of 



Horace Greeley. 449 

twenty- two hiuidrecl thousand dollars for the whole property. All this business 
the chief editor holds in his own hands. He knows every employe, wiiat is paid 
him, and what he is about. He knows what it costs to run the Herald, and 
where the money goes. He is economical where economy is a virtue ; lavish where 
it will make the Herald great." Larg-e and many as the departments are, each is 
perfectly arranged. There are leading- bureaus for news and for business in all 
the great cities of Europe and America ; steam yachts at Sandy Hook and White- 
stone ready for instant and regular use ; a cable of its own, and keen, intelligent 
business and editorial agents all over the world. 

One of the first and boldest of his enterprises was that he sent by cable the 
whole of the King- of Prussia's important speech after the battle of Sadowa of 
the Prusso-Austrian war. This cost in tolls seven thousand dollars in gold, and 
was only one of the features in one daj^'s issue of the journal ; but one day's 
issue of that journal sometimes yields half of that sum in clear profit. JSTothing 
that will be of general importance to the public or add to the power of his paper 
is too great for him to undertake — and make successful. 

When old Mr. Bennett was thinking about starting the Herald, one of tlie 
■ men that he asked to join him in the enterprise was Horace Greeley, who was 
then editor of the New Yorker. He was about sixteen years young-er than Ben- 
nett, and was well known as one of the best printers and cleverest journalists in 
New York. " How much money have you?" asked Greeley. "Five hundred 
dollars," was the answer. "It isn't enoug-h," said the printer-editor. "No, I 
won't go in with you, because I don't think the enterprise will succeed." 

The energetic Bennett found other colleagues, and Horace Greeley kept on at 
his own work. But this was not for very long; for he, too, was anxious to be- 
come the owner of a g-reat daily, and six years after the little Herald appeared 
he had his wish. But the story of his life, both before and after beginning- news- 
paper work, tells of a pretty hard struggle to reach the honored jDosition in which 
he finally became well known to all the world. 

Before this century had much more than turned its first quai'ter he was an odd, 
hard-working, studious lad, barel3'^ in his teens, living with his father and mother 
and his brothers on a wild, newly-cleared farm in the frontier countrj^ of western 
Pennsylvania. The family had moved to this place from Vermont, and it had not 
been a very beneficial change for them. Before long Horace, who had learned 
the printer's trade in his native State, had to start out to look for work, because 
the family were so poor that it was likel}^ that there would not be living for all 
during- the winter, unless some effort was made beyond the limits of the log-cabin 
and the farm. Horace was a tall and awkward lad, with fair white skin, a noble, 



450 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

open face, and tow-colored liaii"; but lie looked so mean and shabby' in his home- 
spun clothes that the first people he met made fun of him instead of gwrng" him 
work ; many of them thoug-ht from his peculiar looks and piping-, whining voice 
that he was not ver3^ bright. But if they listened to his talk for a few minutes, 
they changed their minds about that, for he had a (piick and intelligent mind, and, 
though he had to work very hard as soon as he was old enough, he had managed 
to gather a good deal of general education for himself. Every minute he could 
spare from work or sleep he had taken for reading, and what he read he remem- 
bered. These were but scanty chances, for Horace Greeley was not the boj^ to 
shirk any task ; all the time he ever had for books was well earned and onl}' taken 
after he had done, and done well, what it was his dutj' to do for the family needs. 
Yet he would learn. Even in the poorly-furnished country printing-office, where 
he learned his trade, he got more education than some men receive from a great 
college. Once the leading men in the neighborhood had offered to pay his ex- 
penses through a college course, but his parents refused, probably because the,y 
covdd not spare his help for four years and because they were too proud to receive 
any charities. Then they had all moved to the Avilds of Penns^ Ivania. Even 
there he managed to study and to inform himself about politics, on wiiich he held 
very decided opinions, and showed great eagerness and ability when talking about 
them. 

So, in spite of his poor clothes and awkwardness, he showed his worth, and be- 
fore long he found work as a substitute on the Erie Gazette. After seven months 
the regular man came back and his job was at an end ; but meanwhile he had won 
the respect and regard of his employers and companions. He had also made 
mone3\ In the whole time he had drawn only six dollars for his personal ex- 
penses ; and, when the rest of his wages were paid, he took out fifteen dollars for 
himself and sent the rest — -about a hundred and twenty dollars — to his father. 
Then, chiefly hy canal and by foot, he worked his way to New York, and arrived 
in the great city — wiiich had one-sixth as many people then as it has now — at 
about sunrise, one sultry summer day in 1831. His journey of six hundred miles 
had only cost him about five dollars, and without a friend or even an acquaintance 
in the city, he had made the bold venture of coming here to seek his fortune, with 
ten dollars in his pocket to fall back on in case he failed. But retiring and bashful, 
shabby and without much knowledge of the world as he was, he had not come to 
fail. First he foimd a cheap — very cheap — -boarding-place, and for a whole week 
he tried in vain for work. Nobody believed that the white-skinned, white-headed, 
awkward-looking fellow who came into their offices and piped out, " Do you want 
a hand ? " reall^^ had an^^ working ability-; and he had no idea of persisting after 
his first request had been refused. So, day after day, he made his long* roimds in 



Horace Greeley. 



451 



vain. His chance came another way : the landlord, whose good-will Horace 
had gained, through that week of discouragement, mentioned to an acquaintance 
that his boarder, a printer from the country, had had a tiresome and unsuccessful 
search for work. The acquaintance said that printers were wanted at No. 85 
Chatham Street ; and to that number Horace went the first thing Monday morn- 




'.; ' / 



Horace Greeley. 

ing. He was there so early that the doors were not yet unlocked, and so he fell 
into talk with one of the men Avho came after awhile and had to wait till the doors 
were opened.. The printer said : " I saw that he was an honest, good young man, 
and being a Vermonter myself I determined to help him if I could." So, at his 
new friend's earnest recommendation, the foreman gave the lad a chance, not 
believing he could do anything. The work was wanted on the polyglot Testa- 
ment, and after Horace's cases were filled— we are told by one of his friends — he 
worked all day with silent intensity, and when he showed to the foreman at night 



452 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

a printer's proof of his work, it was found to be a better day's work — larger in 
quantity and more correct — than any man had yet done on that most difficult 
job. The battle was won. He worked on the Testament for several months, 
making- long- hours and earning only moderate wages, saving all his surplus 
money, and sending the greater part of it to his father, who was still in debt for 
his farm and was not sure of being able to keep it. 

This work lasted for over a year, and when it was finished more followed. He 
joined Francis Story in starting the short-lived but remarkably able Morning 
Post, the first daily penny paper ever published ; and in the next year — 1834 — 
as the head of the business firm of Greeley & Co., he founded the New Yorker, 
a weekly literary paper, the best periodical of its class in the United States. Six 
years later he started the Log-Cabin, a spirited little sheet, for the service of 
Thurlow Weed — who is known as the founder of political journalism — and the 
Albany politicians during the " Hard Cider Campaign" for William Henry Har- 
rison "and Tyler too." This paper — it has been said — was never equaled among 
its kind before or since. While both of these journals gave their editor great 
credit they were not successful in making money. But he learned the newspaper 
business in them. Reputation and experience are sometimes as good or even 
better capital than money. At least so it was with Horace Greeley, and the last 
number of the Log-Cabin announced a new daily paper to be called the Tribune. 
The Herald and the Sun were already in the field, but they did not fill it, for the 
little one-cent Whig paper — which its founder aimed to make one that should 
inform and morally benefit the people — soon attracted notice, and although it was 
no easy matter to give away all of the five thousand of the first issue, in less 
than two months there was a demand for eleven thousand. The first number 
had four columns of advertisements ; the hundredth, thirteen columns. It was a 
sudden and a great success. From the first day it appeared — April 10, 1841— it 
has had a moral character, and like the Herald it kept its own individual and 
original tone and lived through all the big eflforts that were made to crush it. 
Mr. Greeley was the editor, and having no gifts for money matters himself he 
secured for his business manager Thomas McElrath, to whose ability and ex- 
perience — he had been a lawyer and a book publisher — a great deal of the success 
of the Tribune is due. 

The Tribune has not been so great a roadmaker in journalism as the Herald, 
but it also has followed a course of its o\m. The Herald was aiming to be a great 
mirror of the world's events; the Tribune aspired to be a molder of sentiment, 
a former of public opinion as well as a newspa]5er. Yet it has also been an en- 
terprising institution. It was in this office that the idea of associntion in news- 
papers in the United States was first proposed and carried into effect. The Trib- 



Horace Greeley. 453 

une Company was the first newspaper stock company on this side the Atlantic. 
Its property was divided into one hundred sliares of a tliousand dollars each. 
Some of these were owned by every important man in the establishment, and its 
officers were elected by the shareholders. This divided the responsibility and 
enlarged the interest of all connected with the paper, while it made no chang-e in 
the management. Mr. Greeley owned the largest number of shares, and was 
elected editor-in-chief as long as he lived. There are very few great papers in 
the country now that are not owned upon this plan. 

Mr. Greeley was a superior journalist, a man of literary taste and ability, 
and he soon drew to his paper some of the clevei-est repoi'ters, the best writers, 
and the ablest critics in the counti-y. Thousands of people looked to it before ex- 
pi'essing their own opinions upon the new theories in science and philosophy, upon 
books, art, and the drama, and accepted its judgment upon these matters as 
final. It also influenced the moral tone of its readers, and was more prominent 
than any other journal in the country in the interest and support it gave to all 
movements of philanthropy and reform. One of the great objects of its life was to 
promote the good and to put out, keep down, and reform the bad in all walks of 
life. Mr. Greeley was warml}^ interested in every movement that seemed likely 
to improve the condition and enlarge the opportunities of the toiling poor. He 
had Margaret Fuller come to New York partly to investigate the conditions of 
this class and to bring them before the public. By his rivals these interests were 
called the Tribune's " isms," and were much ridiculed. The pure and the 
right he was always read3^ to champion either in the abstract or in special cases ; 
and he was equally ready to denounce anything or anybody that was breaking 
the highest laws of morality, and to pick such cases out and expose them to the 
public, whether in institutions or individuals. 

But probably the most powerful of all the influences Mr. Greeley exerted was 
in politics. This began in the old Log-Cabin days, and lasted as long as he 
lived — longer, for the Tribune is still what he made it. At first, as a Whig, he 
was, as he said, the junior partner with the great politicians, William Henry Sew- 
ard and Thurlow Weed, in the famous " firm " of Seward, Weed & Greeley, 
whose influence is described in the sketch of Mr. Seward in the chapter on " Later 
Statesmen and Orators." When the Whig party died out the Tribune almost 
formed the Republican party, which it has stanchly supported ever since ; it has 
also been one of the longest and greatest advocates of the Protective Tariff that 
the country has ever had. Into whatever political contest it took part it always 
threw its whole strength. At the time of the celebrated Kansas war in Congress 
it was all Kansas. It almost seemed as if the pajDer contained nothing else 
for months. On its thirtieth birthday it said of itself: "So long as slavery 



454 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

cursed our country this journal was its decided and open thougli not reckless 
adversaiy ; now that slavery is dead we insist that the spirit of caste, of ine- 
quality^, of contempt for the rights of the colored race shall be buried in its 
g-rave." Temperance, Avoman's rights, the abolition of capital punishment, 
and the condition of the poor were a few other of the isms Mr. Greeley stead- 
fastly supported. At first he was in favor of allowing- the States that wished 
to withdraw from the Union to do so, but when the war actually broke out 
he w^as a powerful supporter of President Lincoln and the Government ; and 
after the conflict was over he advocated the doctrine of " universal amnestj'^ 
and universal suffrage" — that is, he was on the side of those who declared 
that the " rebels " should not be punished, and that negroes should be allowed 
to vote on equal terms with white men. 

Mr. Greeley's ofRce-holding began when the Tribune was seven years old, by 
his election to Cong-ress ; but although during all the rest of his life he was a 
candidate — sometimes successful and sometimes not — for many offices, from Rep- 
resentative up to the Presidency', he was not anxious to take such positions, and it 
was not in that field that he really shone. His true political power was in his paper. 
" He brought into the discussion of political, social, and industrial questions, not the 
ambitions of an office-seeker, but a strong desire and purpose to secure the highest 
welfare of the whole people. If he was not always right on current questions, nor 
always free from the impetuosity which too often mars the efforts of reformers, 
he discussed those questions with a vigor and intelligence not often shown by the 
conductors of political journals in his day. A high moral purpose was at the 
bottom of every form of political and social activity to which he lent his support, 
and few men, especially such a strong partisan, have ever enjoyed in a higher de- 
gree than himself the respect and confidence of his political opponents." He had 
the courage to go against anybody, when he thought it rig-lit. Many times he hurt 
his own political influence by taking sides against an unpopular right. He wished 
to be honored, yet he was always careless of his own popularity and bent only on 
promoting the public welfare. 

The Weekly Tribune has alwa^^s been of even greater importance than the 
dailj' edition. From the first its contents have been clean, interesting, instructive, 
and of first-class literary merit ; its subscription price was placed at the lowest 
rate. It was advertised everywhere. It began to offer all kinds of premiums, 
from a strawberry plant and a gold pencil to a steel-engraving portrait of Horace 
Greeley, to swell its number of subscribers. It established the club sj^stem now 
used by many publishers ; and by many clever schemes pushed itr, ciiculation 
into almost Gvory Republican family in the country. 

The year in which the Tribune was founded Mr. Greeley also began to publish 



Horace Greeley. 455 

a "• Political Register;" a useful and valuable little manual ol political statistics. 
This was a very successful enterprise, and was afterward enlarged and made into 
the " Whig- Almanac," and then the " Tribune Almanac," which has long^ been 
a very valuable little pamphlet and as much of an institution in the country as the 
Tribune itself. Other extras, special lectures, portraits, and books are also pub- 
lished at this office, for sale or to be given away for certain numbers of subscribers 
to the daily or the weekly paper. 

Outside of his newspaper writing — which was among the very best this coun- 
try has ever published— Mr. Greeley wrote several books upon political questions, 
on American history, and related the story of his own career in " Recollections 
of a Busy Life." He was also a well-known lecturer on social and political re- 
forms and on ag-ricultural and manufacturing interests. Though he was unim- 
pressive in looks, voice, and manner, he was so well known and so much esteemed 
for his character and opinions that he always drew a large and attentive audience, 
and it was in this way as well as in the columns of the Tribune that he did more 
than almost any other man of his time to promote the development of the g-reat 
interests of the people. 

The last chapter of Mr. Greeley's life was very sad. He allowed himself to be 
nominated for President in the campaign of 1872, and he not only suffered the 
pain of defeat, but he was bitterly accused by his old friends, as well as by political 
enemies, of being disloyal and unprincipled, and of many other dishonorable 
offenses. This, together with the severe illness and death of his wife — over whose 
bed he watched in deepest anxiety for weeks— so overtaxed his powers that he 
died very soon after the news of General Grant's election was announced. '' It 
was not the presidential defeat, but the cruel impeachment of his integrity by old 
friends that wounded his spirit past all healing." When it was too late liis coun- 
trymen awoke to an expression of how deeply they admired and loved him ; and 
offices of respect that he could not feel showed how great a place he had won in 
the hearts of all good men of all parties and every variety of opinion. He was a 
man who made a great mark in journalism— few in the world have been greater — 
and he was " one whose name will live long after many writers and statesmen of 
greater pretensions are forgotten." A writer says, such men as he have taught 
the world to avoid many errors and have set an example of sincere devotion to a 
noble cause of disinterestedness and lofty aims. 

Horace Greeley was born at Amherst, New Hampshire, February 3, 1811. He 
died in New York City, November 29, 1872. 

The Tribune has had many of the greatest American writers upon its staff., 
but none, perhaps, who have risen to greater power and fame than Charles A. 



456 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Dana, for many years editor of the New York Sun, and Henry J. Raymond, who 
was the founder of the New York Times. 

New Hampshk'e has been g-enerous to her country with her great men ; and 
eight years after she gave us Horace Greeley, his famous brother journahst, 
Charles Anderson Dana, was born there. He entered the newspaper world 
with a good education — mostly gained at Harvard CoUeg-e — after spending some 
months with Hawthorne, Georg-e Ripley, and several other noted people in the 
famous Brook Farm community near Boston. In fact, about his first work in 
journalism was as one of the editors of The Harbinger, a journal that set forth 
the ideas of the celebrated French socialist, Charles Fourier. As Mr. Greele^^ had 
a great deal of sympathy with the views of this writer, not long after the Brook 
Farm company separated, Mr. Dana — and Mr. Ripley, too — became writers for 
the Tribune. Mr. Ripley, who was formerly a Unitarian clerg^mian, became 
literary editor at a salary of five dollars a week. He was probabl^^ the ablest 
critic this country has ever produced, and did a great deal toward forming- the 
Tribune's standard in these matters. 

Mr. Dana having- a g-ood knowledge of foreign languag-es, of facts in Old 
"World politics, and many ideas about European matters, took charge of the for- 
eig-n department of the paper for twelve dollars a week. (Prices for newspaper 
work have vastly changed since then.) 

Before long he went to Europe, and during- the Revolution of 1848 he was the 
regular Tribune correspondent from France. When he came back to America 
Mr. Greeley offered him the post of his first assistant, or what is called the office of 
managing- editor. He held this position for more than ten years, working- mean- 
while with Mr. Ripley upon the New American Cyclopaedia, published by the firm 
of D. Appleton & Company. This task was both larg-e and severe, but they put 
most faithful service into it, and had the satisfaction of seeing- it take its place at 
once as a standard work in America and in England. 

Mr. Greeley held Mr. Dana in very high reg-ard at this time, and more than 
once spoke of his great ability ; but they did not always ag-ree. In 1861, about 
the time that the famous " On to Richmond " movement was made— that which 
hastened the sorry battle of Bull Run— there was a serious disagreement between 
them, and Mr. Dana left. In a short time Mr. Stanton appointed him Assist- 
ant Secretary of War, and sent him to the West to help along the plans of 
General Grant. Until the summer of 1865 Mr. Dana remained in this post, an 
active and able helper in the great Union cause. Then he went back to newspa- 
pers, this time to Chicago, where he became editor-in-chief of the new party jour- 
nal, the Chicago Republican ; but here, too, there was a disagreement, and Mr. 
Dana was paid ten thousand dollars to give up his interest in the paper and leave 



Charles Anderson Dana. 



457 



it. He did so, and returned to New York just in time to join in with a section of 
the Republican party who wanted a new organ. He met their want by buying 
the New York Sun of Mr, Moses S. Beach, There was a strong effort made by 
the New York Press to keep this party from starting a paper, and Mr. Dana's 




Charles Anderson Dana. 



purchase was a very clever turn in the face of the Associated Press, which sud- 
denly found that the new independent Republican paper, which they thought their 
opposition had about made impossible, was issuing out of one of their own sub- 
scribers — the Sun, the oldest penny paper in America, which had led a prosperous 
Democratic life for over thirty years. 



458 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

This was the beg-inmng- of the New York Sun of the present day — famous for 
its able editorials, its sparkling- items, its brevity of words and fullness of news. By 
a g-reat deal of hard work upon the Sun Mr. Dana soon made it a powerfid rival 
of the best dailies in New York ; he improved the contents, the news, the editorials, 
and the literary matter ; he advertised it far and wide, offering- premiums and al- 
most every other inducement that could be thoug-ht of ; and, though he raised the 
price to two cents a copy, it soon had an immense circulation. It is still in its 
glory, at the head of a certain class of small-sized, but powerful and popular 
dailies, some of which are published in New York, and others in various parts of 
the country. 

Mr. Dana was the last of the great editors of the past generation. His old 
friends and fellow -workers of the stirring times in American politics had passed 
away ; but till he was near four score years of age he held the reins of his great 
daily with all his former strength and ability. 

As a gentleman he was very much admired for his handsome looks and courtly 
bearing, for his literary tastes and unusual accomplishments, and for his beautiful, 
courteous manners. His love for his friends, and especially for his family, was 
one of his most delightful social traits to all who knew him. 

Charles A. Dana was born at Hinsdale, New Hampshire, August 8, 1819. 
He died at his home near Glen Cove, Long Island, October 18, 1897. 

There have been very few men in the newspaper work of America that are 
more widely known and more deeply respected than Henry Jarvis Raynioiid, 

the founder of the New York Times. He was born in a village of Lima, in Liv- 
ingston County, New York, and there, a lovable, gifted boy, he began his educa- 
tion in a district school near his father's house. Quick to learn and anxious to 
push ahead in life, he was soon able to enter the village academy, from which he 
went to the Genesee Wesleyan Seminary, and in the beginning- of the famous 
hard times of 1836, when he was only sixteen years old, he entered the University 
of Vermont. He outstripped most of his fellows there, and at the close of the reg- 
ular four years' course, he graduated at the head of his class. 

When this brilliant, energetic young man left college he had made up his mind 
to be a teacher ; he had already taught for a short term in a district school in 
New York State, and he went to work at once to find a school. But after looking 
in vain for several weeks, he gave up the search, and resolved to go to New York 
City and see what work he could get there. He found his niche for a time in a 
down-town law3^er's office, where he studied law and earned his living by teaching 
a Latin class in a classical school and writing for the country press and for Hor- 
ace Greeley's New Yorker; he had begun to write for this while at college. 



Henry Jarvis Raymond. 459 

Even at this age, he showed remarkable gifts and ability, and before long he 
was offered two positions : one was to go South and teach school for four hundred 
dollars a year, the other was to stay in New York and work on Horace Greeley's 
paper, for the same price. He decided to accept the latter, and striking' root 
where he was, he soon grew to be one of the best reporters in the country. In less 
than a year Mr. Greeley started the New York Tribune, giving Raymond the 
place of assistant editor ; and it was there, in the modest little office at No. 30 
Ann Street, in a responsible place on one of the greatest papei's of the day, that 
he laid the foundation of his fame — by untiring industr^^, by quickness and enter- 
prise in getting in his articles ahead of other reporters, and by the ease, readiness, 
and brilliancy of his writing. He would — says an editor of one of the great mag- 
azines of Raymond's day — write a leader or take down a speech, after a shorthand 
method of his own, with equal skill ; and Mr. Greeley has since said of him that 
he was the only assistant he ever had whom he felt it his duty to advise to work 
less hard. 

After two years — busy, active years of varied labors — he went from the Trih- 
uiie to the Courier and Enquirer, where he stayed until he had rounded out ten 
full years of editorial w^ork. During the last three years of this time he had 
also been a figure in New York politics, as a Whig member of the State Legis- 
lature, and Speaker of the Assembly for the last two terms. 

In 1851 Mr. Raymond resigned from the Courier and Enquirer and left pub- 
lic office for a sojourn of several months in Europe. In midsummer he came back 
with his plans all laid and most of his arrangements made to begin at once the 
great work of his life. 

For a long time it had been his ambition to found a public journal that was 
different from all those already in existence and which should supply the want 
that they did not meet. The Tribune and the Herald were making such great 
fortunes that there were plenty of capitalists — George Jones, a publisher, E. B. 
Wesley, a banker, the Harper brothers, and others — -who were ready to form a 
company and supply the money needed to start it, especially as there was a 
greater demand foi- newspapers of this class than the machinery of those already 
established could fill. So it was that ver^' soon after he came back from Europe 
— on the 18th of September, 1851 — the first copy of the New York Times appeared, 
announcing itself as an independent paper and modeled on a plan of Raymond's 
own, which was between the two extremes of the Herald and the Tribune. The 
price was one cent. " It began its prosperous life with a handsome bank account 
of one hundred thousand dollars, and it is no small credit to its founder that this 
capital returned interest before the end of the third year. It drew at once to it^ 
staff the best talent in the country, and in both ability and reliability came nearer 



4G0 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

to the standard of the Nation and the best Eng-hsh papers than any other journal 
hi the land. In this Mr. Raymond's influence controlled the whole staff. He had 
a true sense of the dig-nity of his profession and his responsibility to the public ; 
and he was too conscientious, not merely morally but intellectually, to permit his 
being drawn into the vortex of radical politics and reforms. He was not only a 
writer but a thinker, and he could not fail to see that in life there is no such thing- 
as absolute and unqualified truth ; he could not help seeing- all sides of a subject, 
what it did not as well as what it did take in. Seeing- this, it was simply impossi- 
ble for him to grasp one side of an idea and crusade ag-ainst whoever happened to 
view it at another ang-le." 

The first number, though edited in ''pig-eon-hole" quarters on Ann Street, 
and brought out in an unfinished building-, with many drawbacks and obstacles in 
its way, was a better sheet than any other first number that a New York newspa- 
per office had ever produced. During- the first week subscriptions and advertise- 
ments poured in ; at the end of the second year the paper was doubled in size and 
price, and then it beg-an tc pay dividends, small at first, but rapidlj^ increasing-. 
Then its office was removed to the corner of Nassau and Beekman Streets, in the 
building afterward known as the Park Hotel. After that its proprietors began 
to buy real estate, and before long- a handsome new building was built for it on 
the famous Old Brick Church property, where it now stands, worth a million of 
dollars or more. 

Among- Mr. Raymond's strong-est business traits was his appreciation of g-ood 
workers and the value of g-ood pa^^, and his gentlemanliness toward all his em- 
plo3^es. He understood how to control his temper, ^^et he could state facts and 
show his displeasure with great force when serious blunders were made. He made 
friends with his assistants, and beg-an soon after the Times was founded to bring- 
them together at his house in social meeting-s. In this way he got acquainted with 
them outside of business talk, and they with him and with each other. Few knew 
him without loving- and respecting- him. One of his staff once said : " Mr. Raymond 
was one of the most g-enial of companions — a man full of wit, originality, and va- 
riety ; but with an undercurrent of sadness in his whole being, due larg-ely to his keen 
perceptions of life. He had had to fig-ht his way in the world. His nature was 
a great one orig-inally, and it came out of the trial like g-old out of the furnace. 
He was incapable of any want of g'enerosit3" toward those who were struggling along- 
the difficult and thorny path over which he had once traveled. He had gone 
thi^ough every variety of newspaper toil and was able to appreciate the earnest inten- 
tions of others." Ambitious he was, but never vain, never even satisfied, so great 
were the possibilities that he saw in his field of labor. He was a marvelous worker, 
very abstemious in his habits, which was the secret of his vast amount of labor. 



Henry Jar vis Raymond. 



461 



Like Mr. Greeley, he had a love for politics as well as newspapers, and, like that 
of his great brother journalist, his public life was a failure. Some one has said, 
if he could have been placed at the head of a great party he would have been a 
distinguished statesman, but the task of climbing to power demands certain qual- 
ities that he lacked. It was only about a year after the Times was founded that, 
as a delegate to the Whig National Convention at Baltimore, he went into public 
life for a second time. Two years later he was elected Lieutenant-Governor of 




George William Curtis, 

New York State, and in 1856 he drew up the famous " Address to the People," 
which was adopted by the Republican party at its first national convention. He 
also took an important part in the great campaign of 1860, which ended in the 
election of President Lincoln and the secession of tlie Southern States ; and to- 
ward the close of the war he was elected to the Thirty-ninth Congress, where he 
gained marked distinction in the stormy debates of that famous session. 

He was a conservative Republican in his views, which he advocated in many 
powerful speeches ; but the radical side of the party was too strong for him, and 
no eloquence or ability could secure the other's success. The Philadelphia Con- 



463 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

vention of August 14, 1864, which ended in failure, drew forth Mr. Raymond's 
warmest s^nnpathies. He prepared the Declaration of Principles adopted by the 
Convention, and presented it with an address which, it has been said, forms one 
of the most sag-acious, lucid, and statesman-like documents in our political litera- 
ture. But the Convention was held in vain, and Mr. Ra3aiiond never again took 
a prominent part in public life outside of his ncAvspaper duties. He finished his 
term in Congress, declined a renomination, and from that time to his death — the 
sad, untimely stroke that carried him away in the very prime of life — he confined 
himself entirely to his editorial work. 

His political career drew forth regret from his friends, gibes from his enemies, 
dissatisfaction and even malediction from the greater part of his party. He saw 
too many sides to a subject to be a politician. " A man who steps into the mire of 
American politics, particularly when the tides of party feeling ran as high as they 
did at that time, must go in w^ith his whole heart and soul, or he is certain to 
miss the mark. There is no room for doubt, for hesitation, for inquiry ; " and 
this Raymond could not do. He fought brilliantly, he left a noble record, but he 
fought a fight of wiiicli the issues w^ere fated against him. And the failure 
injured his fame and impaired his usefulness. 

It was only after his death that justice was done him. Then " those who had 
pursued and vilified him in life were the first to pay tribute to his merits. The 
good that he did lived after him ; the evil, it was confessed, never existed." 

Henry J. Raymond was born at Lima, New York, January 24, 1820, He died 
in New York City, June 18, 1869. 

Among journalists there are few if any names of greater fame than that of 
Georg-e William Curtis, late editor of Harjjer's Monthly and Harper's 
Weekly. He was a native of New England, but came to New York with his family 
when he was fifteen years old. Here he had only a little more time for study be- 
fore he was put to business in the counting-house of a dry goods importer, where 
he stayed until he was eighteen j^ears old. It was about this time that the Brook 
Farm community was started, and after about a year of counting-house work Mr. 
Curtis and his elder brother went up to Roxbury to join the famous little company 
of socialists there. A year and a half he spent among them, studying and work- 
ing on the farm, and then for another year and a half he helped a Concord farmer 
with his regular out-of-door work. Then he went to Europe, and after a twelve- 
month of travel entered the University of Berlin, living in the Prussian capital 
during the revolutionary scenes thi'ough which it passed in 1848. After this he 
had more travel — through Central and Southern Europe, and also through Egypt 
and Syria. Some of these experiences he put in a book called " Nile Notes of a 



George W. Childs. 463 

Howadji," which was published after he returned home in 1850. It had a pleas- 
ing, sketchy style, and was so successful that its author began another volume, 
and in a couple of years later the " Howadji in Syria " came out, meeting with 
still greater success. Mr. Curtis wrote many books after that time, but people say 
that this is still the most charming of his works. 

In the meantime he had found regular literary work on the editorial staff of 
the Tribune, and in a short time he began to make for himself quite a name by 
the delightful letters now gathered in the book called " Lotus Eating." In 1852 
he became one of the editors of the newly-started Putnam^ s llagazine, and after 
that died he found his permanent place with the firm of Harper & Brothers, which 
he long held as editor of the Weekly and the Monthly at a salary, it is said, of 
fifteen thousand dollars a year for life. It has been said that '' Mr. Curtis has a 
reputation that is higher probably and at the same time more purely literary than 
that of any other man in the profession. As the amiable and cultivated occupant 
of the ' Easy Chair ' of Harper's Monthly, as the letter- writing ' Bachelor ' of 
Harper's Bazar, and especially as the editor-in-chief of Harper's Weekly, he 
has exercised an influence upon the reading public of America which, if it is not 
profound, has certainly been genial, elevating, and refining. There are few men 
in America who, when they take up their pens, can be sure of reaching so wide 
an audience ; and there is scarcely another who, having written so much, can 
look back over the record and find so little to regret." 

Nor were Mr. Curtis's labors confined to journalism. He was always in great 
demand at college and other literary celebrations. As a lyceum lecturer there 
Were only one or two of his contemporaries of greater popularity. 

George William Curtis was born in Providence, Rhode Island, February 24, 
1824. He died at his home on Staten Island, August 31, 1892. 

Probacy the greatest newspaper man in America, outside of New York City, 
was George W. Cliilds, the owner and editor of the celebrated Philadelphia 
Public Ledger. This was one of the first and most successful penny journals in 
this country, and was established by three New York printers, when Mr. Childs 
was a little fellow only seven years old. It had been going and prospering for 
seven years before he knew much if anything about it, for he was a Maryland lad, 
and did not go to Philadelphia until he was fourteen years old. Then, being poor 
and with his living to earn, he went there to make his fortune in the modest be- 
ginning of clerk and errand-boy in a book-store. He always had a taste for busi- 
ness and a determination to make his own way ; he began to be an errand boy in 
a book-store at home during the school vacations when he was only ten years old. 



464 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Then he was in the navy for fifteen months, and after that went to the City of 
Brotherly Love and big book-stores. He had wonderful quickness and busi- 
ness push, so that he was soon sent by his employer to all the trade sales at New 
York and Boston to make the regular purchases ; and in four years he started 
into the trade for himself. He hired an office in the old Ledger building", where 
he sold newspapers and magazines, and began to build up the business which soon 
became so important that throughout the country when any one spoke of the 
" Philadelphia Publisher," it was known that he meant George W. Childs. From 
the beginning he was so smart and industrious and so full of self-reliance that 
he pushed right ahead, seeming to feel that he would make his way to great 
things. He was sure to win, for beside his other business qualities he had judg- 
ment — the rarest of all faculties. 

One day the celebrated owner of the Ledger, Mr. W. M. Swain — one of the 
three New York printers — was talking with his young tenant about his prospects 
in business, and Childs said : " I have made up my mind, Mr. Swain, to own the 
Ledger one of these days." " Have you? Well, my j^oung friend, you will be 
an old man before you accomplish that, I guess," said the proud proprietor; 
but time showed that he was not a prophet. The seller of journals became a 
seller of books, then a publisher, and with tact, courage, perseverance, and skill, 
a great publisher. He became one of the firm of Robert E. Peterson & Co., after- 
ward Childs & Peterson, and then he united with the house of J. B. Lippincott & Co. 
He brought out some of the most important books in the country about the time 
of the Rebellion, and in 1863 he became editor of the American Literary Gazette 
and Publishers'' Chronicle, which he made one of the leading booksellers' maga- 
zines of the country, a most valuable journal to the trade, and an interesting one 
to the public. It has now become the Publishers' Weekly, and is published in 
New York. 

Thus Mr. Childs spent sixteen years gaining wealth and wisdom, and a vast 
amount oi experience in selling newspapers and publisliing books, carefully read- 
ing the New York Herald and the Public Ledger, looking over the best English 
law-books for reprinting in America, examining the manuscript of some of the 
ablest and most instructive books that were Avritten at that time, and in doing a 
great deal of other reading, thinking, and observation. Along with this culture 
and knowledge of books he had been laying up money, till at last he found him- 
self with enough to realize his long dreamed of ownership of the greatest daily 
paper in Philadelphia. 

Then one day Mr. Swain had a caller, and, on looking up he saw Mr. Childs, 
a full-faced, neatly dressed, courteous gentleman, who appeared that daj' rather 
confident in his manner and very much to the point in his conversation. He first 



George W. Childs. 



465 



recalled the "threat" he made to Mr. Swain sixteen years before, and then told 
him that he had never forgotten it, and that his special business with him that day 
was to carry out this purpose. After some talk and several more visits he suc- 
ceeded, and on the 3d of December, 1864, the Ledger lost Mr. Swain — who re- 
tired '' trebly a millionaire " — and gained Mr. Childs, and with him a mighty im- 




George W. Childs. 



pulse toward greater power. It was already a very important paper, but the 
new owner saw where it could be vastly improved and he set to work at once 
to give it a wider and more comprehensive grasp of intellect in its manage- 
ment. The reading columns began at once to show more industry, more power, 
and greater variety. One of the most splendid buildings in Philadelphia was 
built for its editors, clerks, machinery, compositors, and customers. Its new im- 



466 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

pulses increased the demand. Mr. Childs raised the price to two cents — almost 
all the papers had to do so during the war or afterward, because paper and other 
materials cost so much more than they had before — and still it prospered im- 
mensely in both circulation and advertising. 

It made its new owner a much richer man than he was before and in more 
ways than one it greatly enlarged his chances for doing good — which seemed to 
him to be the real value of wealth and power. He was noted for the generosity he 
showed to writers and literary people, both to the struggling young ones and those 
that are well known; and there are few men in the country who have given 
greater aid to worthy charities than he. He offered prizes and other inducements 
to bring out the best talent among American authors. Having excellent taste 
himself and good assistants in all departments, he kept the Ledger up to a good 
literary standard. His weekly was the old Dollar Weekly to which Mr. Swain 
clung as long as he lived, ''so as not to leave journalism," he said, "in giving up 
the dail3\" It is now called the Home Weekly, and has an immense circulation. 

Many of Mr. Child's charities were of his own planning and for the benefit of 
men, women, and children connected in one way or another with the newspaper 
business. He established a printers' cemetery at Woodlands ; he donated a hand- 
some sum for a fund for the widows and orphans of printers; and he presented ten 
of his leading employes with life insurance policies for the benefit of their families. 
Once a year — on Christmas or Fourth of July, or some such great holiday — he 
brought all the newsboys of Philadelphia together for a great feast. 

As a man he had the esteem and friendship of our own greatest soldiers, states- 
men, and financiers ; he was the intimate friend of nearly every celebrated man 
and woman of the age, both at home and abroad ; he was welcome in every society 
for his virtues as a gentleman even more than for his fame as a wealthy publisher 
and able journalist. 

Mr. Childs was born in Baltimore, Maryland, May 12, 1829. He died in 
Philadelphia, January 18, 1894. 



DISTINGUISHED ARTISTS. 



IT has been said that America has produced only one great musician. That 
was Lowell Mason, teacher, composer, and leader of the public taste. He 
had an inborn genius for melody and harmony, which showed itself when he was a 
baby. But seventy-five years ago music was very little understood in this country. 
In New England— where Mason was growing into young manhood at that time — 
people still felt as the early Puritans did, that music was a vain and unholy art. 
They sang hymn-tunes in church, to be sure, but that was all the music they 
believed in, and it must have been very little indeed. Hymn-sounds were a better 
word, for the meeting-house singing in those old days had time, perhaps, but 
neither tune nor expression, surely. It satisfied the congregation ; it was praise to 
God, and to them that was all the place that music had in the world. So, when 
this little Lowell would do nothing but sing and play on every musical instrument 
that he could find, nearl}^ everybody who knew him thought it was a great pity, 
and that he would never be of any account in the world. 

His father was in despair. He tried to have the lad help him in his business, 
which was keeping a country store, but he had not the least interest in the store, 
and often forgot all about it. Sometimes when his father would leave him alone 
in charge of it, if he happened to see some boy who liked to hear him play — if it 
was only on a jew's-harp — he would wander off with him, all taken up with the 
music, and without a single thought for the store. For this ''mooning" and 
carelessness young Lowell Mason soon got the name of being an untrustwortl\y, 
idle bo3^ But whenever he had a chance to use his great musical gifts, he was 
industrious enough ; he was ready to undertake any amount of labor if it was 
musical labor. He did not always behave well to the people about him, who mis- 
understood him or his passion for music, but he was not a bad boy, though people 
often said he was. He did nothing vicious, and throughout his life he was a man 
of upright, pure mind and good habits. His delight in musical instruments 
made him learn to be saving of his money so that he could buy them. Then as 



468 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

he had no one to teach him to play on them, he taught himself, and to do that 
took patience and perseverance. 

When he was sixteen years old he took charge of the village choir, and from 
that time till he was twenty he spent much time teaching singing classes in 
his neighborhood. Then he went to live in Savannah, Georgia. He was older 
now, and realized that he must earn his living in the world like other men, and 
as he could not do it by music alone, he obtained a position in a bank, using his 
spare time — which happened to be abundant — in training church choirs. 

People in Savannah were more interested in music than were those of the Mas- 
sachusetts village of Medfield, and after awhile Mr. Mason was invited to give a 
public concert. He had a large audience, and everybody was delighted with him 
and thought him a wonderful musician. 

The wild boy had now become an excellent, religious young man ; and so he 
had a double interest in sacred music. It was worship to him, as well as art; 
but the poor quality of it pained him still, and in the course of time he was the 
means of bringing about a great change in it all over this countr3^ 

At Savannah Mr. Mason had the good fortune to meet a thoroughly trained 
musician, who gave him very valuable lessons in harmony and nuisical composi- 
tion. With this new knowledge, he began thinking of introducing into his church 
choir an entirely different and much better class of hymn-tunes than were used in 
any of the Protestant churches in the United States. The way he did this was 
not by thinking that he himself could write better sacred music than the times 
sung in the churches ; he knew tliat the old masters of Europe had written the 
best works in the world, so he searched the works of the great and famous com- 
posers of sacred music of the last centur3^, Handel and Haydn, and with his 
own skill in harmony and counterpoint set passages from their works to the grand 
old church hymns, and taught them to liis choir. These experiments were suc- 
cessful, so he kept on, and after a time he found that he had so many of these 
beautiful hymns that he began to tliink about making a book of them, so that 
other church choirs might also use them. 

Nine years after he first went to Savannah he returned to Boston with his mu- 
sical manuscripts, to look for a publisher. This was a discouraging errand for 
awhile. He did not want to copyright his hymns, because he wanted everybody to 
use them ; they were for worship, and he cared more about doing good with them 
than for making money out of them for himself. But no publisher was willing to 
take the risk of publishing them on any terms. At last he turned to the Handel 
and Haydn Society, a new musical club tliat had been formed in Boston but a 
short time before with the object of making people understand and love the music 
of the two great composers whose names it took. It was already well kno\\Ti \xx 



Lowell Mason, 



469 



the musical world, and Mr. Mason thought that, as his book contained so much of 
the music of Handel and Haydn, perhaps the society would publish it ; and after a 
good many doubts, they consented to do so, and the book was brought out with 
the name of the " Boston Handel and Haydn Society's Collection of Church Mu- 
sic." It made a great success at once. So many copies of it were sold that the 
society made a great deal of money out of it, and became far more important than 




Lowell Mason. 



it had ever been before. All over the country the new book came into use, and it 
purified and raised people's taste in music wherever it went. Having once sung 
this kind of music they could never go back and be contented to sing the sort of 
tunes they had had before. 

Dr. Mason's fame became so great after this that many people in Boston 
thought he ought to be there instead of in Savannah. Finally three churches 
agreed to pay him two thousand dollars a year — then considered a large salary — 
if he would come to Boston and take charge of their choirs. He did so, and before 



470 Owe Hundred Famous Americans. 

long- he gave up two of the choirs and devoted all his time to the other one — the 
choir that belonged to Dr. Lyman Beecher's church. Here he worked with his 
whole heart ; he never spared any time or trouble to make the music of that choir 
as good as it could possibly be. His influence spread far and wide ; other musi- 
cians took up the same thing- in other places, until there was a complete change 
in the musical taste of the entire country. He always made his church choirs feel 
that the music they made was not merely a sort of concert for show, but was a 
part of the solemn worship of God. 

Dr. Mason's musical labors went in another direction also. When he was 
about thirty-seven years old he succeeded in arousing- in Boston a great interest 
in teaching music to children. Before this time, no one in America had ever 
thought of making- music a part of the regular education of young folks. He 
made up large classes of children and taug-ht them for nothing, he was so anxious 
to spread the knowledg-e of music, and to show how much of it children could 
learn. This action had a g-reat and lasting effect ; music was made one of the 
regular studies in the public schools of Boston, with such g-reat success that it 
has been taug'ht there ever since ; and now most of the larg-e public schools of the 
country have followed the example. 

Dr. Mason also proposed to open the. Boston Academy of Music, which has 
ever since been a great musical institution. He was truly g-reat as a teacher, as 
a great composer and an organist. He not only could play, write music, and 
bring- people tog-ether in musical societies, but he had the power to give out his 
knowledg-e in a way that interested his pupils in their lessons and induced them 
to work for themselves They learned much beside music from him. He taught 
them to be industrious and self-reliant, and all his inlluence was used for their 
moral and religious good. 

As a man, he was courteous, kind, and frank in his manners, and of the most 
generous and uprig-ht character. The last 3^ears of his life were passed in a quiet 
country-seat, with his married sons and their families, and many fi'iends close 
about him. He lived to see his children and g-randchildren g-row up with some- 
thing- of love and talent for his own art ; and, long- before the g-ood old man — the 
venerable father of American music — passed away, he saw his son, Dr. William 
Mason, take his place among the first pianists in the countrj'. 

Dr. Mason was born in Medfield, Massachusetts, January 8, 1792. He died at 
Orange, New Jersey, August 11, 1872. 

The first g-reat American actor was Edwin Forrest, and there are many 
g-ood critics who think we have never had another of equal power. He was the 
youngest son of a Scotchman — a rich Philadelphia merchant — and he was born in 



Edwin Forrest. 471 

the early part of this century. Before he and his brothers and sisters were grown, 
their father died, and their mother had a hard strug-gie to keep her family to- 
g-ether, but by industry and good manag-ement she brought them up respectably. 
She even planned to educate Edwin for the ministry because he had such a beauti- 
ful voice and showed so much talent for reciting- verses and passages of Scripture. 
But his bent was for using- his g-ifts in another way — on the stag-e. When he was 
real young- he often manag-ed to g-o to the theater, earning- his ticket by distribut- 
ing- play-bills on the street, waiting- on the employes, or doing- an^^thing- he could. 
Very soon he made up his mind that he wanted to be an actor himself. 

When he was eleven years old a manag-er who had often seen him about the 
theater asked him one day if he could play a g-irl's part ; some g-irl who was 
to appear in a small part that nig'ht had been taken sick. Edwin was de- 
lig-hted at this chance to come before the footlig-hts, and set to work in a very 
boyish way to make himself look like a g-irl. His efforts were not very success- 
ful, thoug-h ; and when he stepped before the audience they laughed and hooted 
at the big boy's shoes and trousers that showed below his skirts. The people 
made such a noise that he could not make himself heard. Even this did not 
entirely abash him ; for some time he would not give up ; finally, when he had to 
come off the scene, he succeeded in making one line heard — he called to a boy in the 
pit, who was particularly noisy in his ridicule, and told him that when the play 
was over he would come out and "lick him." 

The manag-er was so disappointed and mortified over this event that it was a 
long time before Edwin Forrest could get any other chance to play. In the mean- 
time his mother was apprenticing him to one tradesman and then to another to 
teach him, if possible, to be industrious and useful. But he had little interest in 
anything outside of theaters. He was not contented until he had forced his way 
upon that same stage where he had disgraced himself with the shoes and trousers, 
and had, as he felt, redeemed himself. Several times he got before the public, and 
each time he did so well that when he was only fourteen years old some promi- 
nent gentlemen of Philadelphia became interested in him, and finally got the use 
of a theater for him and gave him a chance to take an important part. He made 
his own choice, and took the character of Young Norval in Home's tragedy of 
" Douglas." When the important night came the house was filled with a large 
audience. There were many good critics among them, and all were full of curi- 
osity to see what this presuming boy would do. They soon found out ; he as- 
tonished them with his power. Curiosity and criticism were turned into enthu- 
siastic praise. The performance was a triumph, and after it was over there was 
no doubt about the fact that Edwin Forrest had the genius of a great actor. He 
did not enter the profession at once, though ; but went on working in a shop, as 



472 One Hundred Famous Americans, 

before, devoting' all his spare hours to the work and study of fitting- himself to 
enter the lists by and by. 

When he was between sixteen and eighteen, he felt ready to begin, and, getting 
an engagement in a travelling company, he was an actor for the rest of his life. 
He played all sorts of parts in his early 3^ears on the stage, working liard for little 
pay, and learning- a great deal that was soon to help him take a foremost place 
among the actors of the world. Industrious and lovable, he made many friends 
among the best people he met; and several of the most superior men and women 
of the country were deeply interested in his future. 

When he was about twenty-one, the great English actor, Edmund Kean, made 
a visit to this country. Forrest saw him during his tour, and afterward played 
with him — a most important event in tlie art of the promising young- Philadel- 
phian. Keaii's playing was a marvel of power and simplicity to him ; he watched 
him and studied his methods with the deepest interest — too great and too original 
himself to want to copy, or to be able to copy any one, but not too much of a 
genius to learn a great deal from other members of his profession. Soon after 
their first meeting, Forrest had a chance to play in a performance given for the 
benefit of some charitable object, at a. New York theater. He appeared as 
Othello — one of the most important and most difficult roles in the English drama 
— and his success was so great that he toolc his j^lace at once among the greatest 
stars on the Ameiican stage. 

After this he played for five j^ears without a break, in all the chief cities of 
the Union, the idol of the public, and the glory of the profession. By nature he 
was uncommonly well fitted for an actor. He was exceedingly handsome — with a 
tall, perfectly proportioned, and very muscular figure ; a grand head, and a voice 
that was one of the most wonderful that was ever heard. His acting was what 
is called "robust" — that is, he always used a great deal of strength and voice 
in all his parts. This was very marked when he was young — he did not then con- 
trol his enormous pli3'sical powers enough — but as years went on he became more 
finished and restrained. Kean taught him the value of a polished art. 

After he had thoroughly established himself at the head of his profession in 
this country, he arranged to take a vacation of two years and go to Europe. At 
the time of his departure he received attentions from many of the greatest men in 
America, and was more honored than any actor had ever before been in this 
countr.y. 

If the people had done their utmost to honor him when he left them, they had 
learned how to do much more during the period of his stay ; for a tremendous 
welcome awaited liim on his return, and everywhere that he went he found him- 
self most ardently received. After one great, successful season at home, he again 



Edwin Forrest. 



in 



Went to Europe, and then arranged to play in London. He was the first Amer- 
ican actor of note wlio had ever appeared before a British pubhc, and he did 
credit to the land he went from. Tlie Britons recognized his merit, and received 
him witli praise and tlattering- attentions, rating- liim among tlie world's greatest 
actors. His most important roles were the character of the Indian in the play 
"Metamora," the Gladiator, King Lear, and Othello, in Shakespeare's greatest 




Edwin Forrest. 

tragedies ; Damon, in the play of " Damon and Pythias," Virginius, and Hamlet, 
but to this last he was less suited than to all the others. 

After his first great triumph in England he visited the mother country sev- 
eral times and played many successful engagements there. 

.As a man Mr. Forrest was high-tempered and undisciplined, but he had a 
strong — though often rough — sense of honor, that scorned any sort of secret in- 
jury, such as he was once accused of in a famous quarrel between himself and the 
great English actor, William Macready. In his later years he made a great 



474 One Hundred Famous Amer^icans. 

deal of money, and Avanted to do g-ood with it. He loved his profession and his 
fellow-workers in it, so he established a Home for old and invalid actors in Phil- 
adelphia. He always loved books; he gathered together one of the finest 
private libraries in the country ; and throng-h his own efforts he became one of 
the most learned men of his time upon matters connected with the drama, past 
and present. 

Edwin Forrest was born March 9, 180G, in Philadelphia, where he died Decem- 
ber 12, 1872. 

No name connected with the history of the American stage is more famous or 
more honored than that of Charlotte Cushmaii, She was ten A^ears younger 
than Forrest, a native of Boston, and an actress for forty years. Dui-ing most 
of that time she had no rival in this country in her powerful tragic roles, and 
scarcely an equal among all the English-speaking actresses of the world. 

From the time she was a little girl, Charlotte Cushman looked forward to a public 
life. When she was thirteen j^ears old her father lost his property, and it then 
became necessary for her to begin to prepare for some way of earning her living. 
She had an ear for music and a fine voice, and with the help of some good friends 
— she always had many of these — she began to studj^ to become a music-teacher. 
Afterwards it was thought she might make a great success as a professional 
singer. For this she took lessons and studied very hard, and when siie was nine- 
teen years old she made her first appearance in opera in Boston. This made no 
great impression, but was so successful that she soon made an engagement to 
sing in opera in New Orleans. Here, in her great ambition to succeed, she strained 
and overworked her voice. In her unreasonable zeal she actually lost her aim, for 
one day she found that she could sing no more. At first she was in despair — 
all the hopes and the efforts of the many friends Avho had aided her and all her 
own work had suddenly come to nothing ; but slie had too strong and energetic a 
nature to waste much time in useless regrets. She went to consult a New Or- 
leans manager she knew, who said that perhaps it was not so great a misfortune 
after all, for he thought she ought to be an actress and not a singer. Then he 
presented her to the most important man in his company to see what arrange- 
ment he could make for going on the theatrical stage. Her acting in opera had 
already made a good impression, and after a few rehearsals she had an engage- 
ment to play the part of Lady Macbeth. She was overjoyed at the idea of play- 
ing this part, in which in after years she achieved a world-wide fame.. Slie had 
no suitable clothes, but she would not let that daunt her, and went at once to an- 
other actress in the city to try and borrow something to wear on this great occa- 
sion. The lady to whom she went was kind-hearted and anxious to help the 



Charlotte Cushman. 



475 



jimbitious young- girl ; but it was a very difficult task to make the clothes that 
fitted her short and fat body do for the tall and, at that time, thin, figure of 




Charlotte Cushman. 

Charlotte Cushman. They set to work, though, to do their best, and busily pieced 
down skirts, took in seams, and finally arranged a costume that they thought 
would do. Dress was not then regarded as so important a matter on the stage 



i7C) 07ie Hundred Famous Americans. 

as it is now, and people who could act were praised, regardless of the clothes 
they wore. 

Miss Cushnian's first appearance as Lady Macbeth was successful, but made 
no great sensation. The next year she came to New York to try and get an en- 
gagement. Before long she made a contract to act for three }^ears as leading 
lady of tlie Bowery Theater ; her salary was to be twenty-five dollars a week for 
the first year, thirty-five a week for the second, and forty-five for the third. A 
good actress would think such prices very small nowadays ; hut she was almost 
untried at that time, and her pay was then considered quite liberal. Miss Cusli- 
man thought so, and sent for her mother and her young brothers and sisters to 
come to live in New York, where she could be with them — for she was the pro- 
vider and care-taker for them, young as she was. 

Once again her too great energy and lack of caution got her into serious 
trouble ; she so overworked herself in preparing for her new engagement that before 
the time came for her to appear she was taken seriously ill. For a long time she 
was unable to do anything. Though she was engaged for three years she was to 
play onl3^ a month just at this time in New York, and upon that month de- 
pended her whole future. When she got well enough to act only a week of her 
precious month was left. During that week she played a number of great parts. 
She began with Lady Macbeth and scored a success at once. But now a new 
trouble met her. A fire broi^e out in the Bowerj^ Theater, burning the house and 
causing so much loss to the manager that he could not fulfil the contract he had 
made with Miss Cushman. This was a terrible blow to her ; but she had a gallant 
and courageous spirit, and when she was baffled on one hand she was alwaj's 
ready to turn to something else. 

She soon got a five weeks' engagement in Albany, and her success there was 
so great that she staj^ed on at the same place for five months. This was a great 
thing for her ; it gave her a name with the public and some importance with 
managers and other actors. She had had a chance to show what she could do and 
had compelled admiration. She had also become more thoroughly in love with her 
profession than she ever was before, and had started upon that course of cease- 
less study and discipline which she kept up to the end of her life, and which added 
greatly to her powers. Speaking of a great trouble that came to her in her young 
womanhood, she said : " Labor saved me then and always," and this was true 
of her in many ways. She was not a handsome woman, and yet she rose to 
the head of a profession in which it is said to be almost impossible for a woman 
to succeed without beauty. It was to her industry and ambition as much as to 
her genius that she owed this success. 

Eight years after her appearance in New York, and when she was at the 



Edivin Booth. 477 

height of her fame in this country, she went to England. There were many ob- 
stacles in her way there, and she was weeks and months in g-etting- an opportu- 
nity to appear at all ; but all was overcome at last, and when she did appear be- 
fore the London public it was in a perfect triumph of success. This experience 
ended the period of her bitter struggles ; the rest of her life is a smooth record of 
appreciated work in her great art. 

Miss Cushman's 3'ounger sister, Susan Cushman, followed her in her choice of 
a profession, and the two for several years were often seen together, oftenest 
appearing in " Romeo and Juliet," Charlotte playing Romeo and Susan Juliet. 
Miss Cushman was said by good critics to be one of the best Romeos ever seen. 

Her parts were many and various, but her gifts were best shown in those that 
demanded force rather than softness, strength ratlier than the display of weak- 
ness. Queen Katherine, Meg Merriles, and Lady Macbeth were the characters in 
which she was most famous in her later j^ears, and ones in which she will always 
rank as the first actress of the English-speaking- stage, after England's grand 
genius, Mrs. Siddons. She loved to act and appeared in public as long as she 
possibly could. Even when her playing days were past she gave readings and 
recitations that were attended by vast crowds of enthusiastic people. 

She was admired, loved, and almost worshiped by the American public for 
years before her death. She had great social as well as dramatic gifts, and her 
company was eagerl^^ sought by famous men and gracious women ; it seemed as 
if all the honors that her countrymen could invent for such a favorite were heaped 
upon her. During the latter years of her life she suffered greatly from a cancer, 
but she bore her pain silently and bravely, often cheerful and joking in spite of 
her agony. 

Charlotte Cushman was born July 23, 1S16, in Boston, where she died Febru- 
ary IS, 1S7G. 

The most illustrious American actor for many 3'ears was Edwin Booth, 
By his natural gifts, his exquisite art, and his beautiful character, he was an 
honor to his profession and his country, and held a position at home and abroad 
that was unrivaled among American actors and eminent among all men, 

He was the son of Junius Brutus Booth — a popular English actor who came to 
America about twelve years before bis famous son was born, who retained all of 
his histrionic power and popularity until past middle life. Edwin Booth came 
into the world on the night of a great meteoric shower; and the superstitious ne- 
groes on his father's place — which was then in Maryland — thought it was a sign 
that the baby would be "lucky," that his birth was accompanied by so many 
"falling stars." He was named by his father after Edwin Forrest, a great rival 



478 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

at that time of the elder Booth. Edwin's little-boy da3^s were spent in the quiet, 
country life of the farm, with his brothers and sisters, and when he was old enough 
to study he first w(>nt to a little old-fashioned country school. After awhile he 
was sent to a larger school at Baltimore, and when he was about fourteen years 
old his father began to take him with him on some of his theatrical tours. How 
his schoolmates did envy him these journey's, but to Edwin the novelt^^ of them 
soon wore off ; he would have gladly let any of the boys go in his place, for it 
wasn't much fun to him to have to constantly take care of and wait upon his 
father, who was as odd or eccentric as he was great. There were times when his 
father seemed almost insane, and though he was not intemperate — as many peo- 
ple once thought — he often behaved exactly like a man who had been drinking. 
The task of watching him and keeping him out of harm's way at such times now 
often fell upon Edwin. It was a trial for the young fellow, but he was conscien- 
tious and devoted in doing it. The father and son had a great deal of love for 
each other, and through many years old Mr. Booth relied very much upon his son 
for care and company. This sort of a life broke into the lad's studies and almost 
drove him to adopt his father's profession wiien the time came for him to take 
care of himself. 

But Edwin Booth had a bent for the stage which was so strong that he would 
probably have become an actor if it had been very difficult instead of very easy 
for him to enter the profession. He took his first part when he was sixteen years 
old. It was at that famous old theater, the Boston Museum, and his part was 
the small one of Tressel, in Shakespeare's play of "Richard III." Though he 
had been acquainted with stage matters and stag'e people all his life, and was the 
son and constant companion of a great actor, he did not expect — as do many young 
people who want to be actors — to leap at once into the foremost rank of his pro- 
fession ; he expected to learn its details and slowly and with hard work to make 
his way upward. He was playing with his father, and his father was really inter- 
ested in his performance, but he said very little to encourage the lad. He thought 
it best to let him i\^ly upon his own judgment. 

Two years he worked humbly and industriously ; then he had his first impor- 
tant part — Richard—m the same play he had first appeared in. His father was 
announced to take the part at the old National Theater, in New York, but at the 
last moment the old actoi* declared that he was sick and could not and would not 
play. Everything was in confusion and everybod,>' in despair. " Play it your- 
self," said the father to the son, when Edwin besought him to come to the thea- 
ter ; and this he finally did. He had never prepared himself to take that char- 
acter, but he had heard it so often that he knew it b\' heart. So he put on his 
father's clothes, which were much too big for him, and went on the stage as Rich- 



Edwin Booth. 



479 



ard III. The audience were at first cold and curious, but before the play was 
over they applauded him long- and loudly. It was the beg-inning of his success ; 
but fame was yet far off. 

Soon after this event young- Mr. Booth went to a theater in Baltimore at a salary 




_^is 



' Vvg^^< 



'•«S%n ■'■' 



Edwin Booth. 



of six dollars a week. Here he was to take different parts, but successful as he had 
been— youth and want of experience considered — in playing i?/c/ia/-d JJJ., when he 
came to try to play different parts and different kinds of parts, he was awkward 
and confused and seemed an entire failure. So he had to go back to his father's 
company. The next year they went to California, then a new, wild country. 



480 One Hunch^ed Famous Americans. 

It proved a very unattractive place for a popular actor, and before long old 
Mr. Booth returned to the States, leaving- Edwin to take care of himself. . He had 
an exceedingly hard time in doing- it, too. Theatrical business, in those days un- 
certain in the most favorable places, was extremely poor in the newly settled coun- 
tr^^ of the West ; and soon after his father left him the young actor started upon 
a most strange and varied set of experiences. Sometimes he had an engagement 
and money and almost as often he had neither. Once when he was very poor he 
took tlie last piece of money he had and staked it at a gambling- table and lost it. 
This was the first time he had ever gambled, and it was the last. He often said 
afterward that the loss of that piece of money in that way was one of the most 
fortunate things that ever happened to him, as it made him detest all forms of 
gaming forever. 

After many ups and downs he came to be a great favorite in California, and 
gained so much success that he was encourag;ed to think of coming back to New 
Yoi-k and making another attempt before the audiences of the great city. He was 
very modest and did not at all believe that he could become a great star ; but he 
hoped to be a leading man in some New York stock company, which would at least 
be a good position and steady employment. He returned, got a place, and put 
forth his effort. It was clear to every one that he would succeed — more than 
that, that he had a most brilliant career before him. In many of his father's parts 
he aroused a good deal of enthusiasm, and as soon as he played Hamlet the best 
critics in town recognized that his equal in that character was scarcely know^n in 
stag-e history. His graceful, slender form, his exquisite manner, his fine, melan- 
choly face made him the very ideal of the Prince of Denmark. From that day to 
his death Hamlet was considered his greatest part, and most thoughtful critics 
found in him the finest Hamlet within the memory of his generation. He made 
several professional tours through Europe and was received with such honors 
and attentions as few artists of any land have been accorded. 

Mr. Booth was twice married; his second wife — once the celebrated actress, 
Miss McVicker, of Chicago — died after a long illness in which her mind was 
much affected. For some years before her death her husband knew that she was 
not always entirely sane, but he did not let it become known to the world, and 
when strange things occurred in the family, which people did not understand 
and about which they gossiped, he bore blame and slander in silence, rather 
than let his wife's lapses of reason become public talk. After her death her friends 
and family told the truth, and also revealed the tenderness and devotion and the 
kind forbearance with which he had patiently made the best of her misfortune. 
This further endeared hiin to the American public. 

In every way Mr. Booth merited as much admiration as a man, as he won as 



Joseph Jefferson. 



481 



an artist; and all lovers of beauty and truth in life or in art felt that the world 
had sustained a real loss when he died. 

Edwin Booth was born in Harford County, Maryland, on November 13, 1833. 
He died in New York City, June 7, 1893. 




Joseph Jefferson. 

The leading- comedian of America is Joseph Jefferson, who belongs to 
the fourth generation of actors in the Jefferson family. His great-grandfather 
was in the same company for years in London with the illustrious English actor, 
David Garrick, and was his friend and a man of standing in his profession. It 
was this man's son who was the first famous "Joe " Jefferson, and who founded 
the American branch of the family. He came to this country near the close of the 
last century, and was for a long time a successful and popular actor. He had a 
son, named after himself, who was the father of the present "Joe " Jefferson, tne 
greatest representative of his famous family. 



482 One Himdred Famous Americans. 

This actor — who is no greater in liis exquisite art than in his virtues and good- 
pess of cliaracter — was horn in Philadelphia, and made his first appearance hefore 
the footlig-hts when he was a baby in long- clothes. When he was four years old 
he sang- and danced before an audience of theatrical people, who felt that he did 
<< very remarkably well." When he was eight j^ears old he and his parents were 
engaged at the Franklin Theatre in New York, where he appeared in many small 
parts and in some that were quite important. So it was that he grew up in the 
theatre, as it were ; and he is not known to have ever thought of following any 
other than the actor's profession. Between his engagements he was sent to school, 
and when he was playing he was taught at home, and the learning of parts was 
itself good training for his mind. 

Though he can scarcely remember the time when he was not on the stage, Mr. 
Jefferson's first marked success was when he was about twenty-five 3'ears. It was 
in the New York theatre of the then famous Laura Keene, and his performance 
was in the comedx^ part of Dr. Pangloss, in the play of " The Heir at Law." In 
this theatre Jefferson made a reputation for that delicacy and refinement of feel- 
ing that has always been a marked trait with him. Because he would not speak 
coarse lines, or bring low jests into his parts some unworthy actors tried to quarrel 
with him and make him unpopular. They nicknamed him the " Sunday-school 
comedian," but Jefferson took their taunts calml^^, and would not in the least 
alter his course. The very names of the actors who attacked him have been long 
forgotten, while that of Jefferson has reached an everlasting fame. 

His second season in New York made him widely famous. His positic^n was 
assured by the success he made in the part of Asa Trenchard in the play of 
" Our American Cousin." In this he had a chance to be pathetic, and his ex- 
quisite pathos, his wonderful ability to bring tears and laughter at the same time 
is more than anything else the gift that has raised him above other comedians of 
his day. 

Jefferson's name is more associated with the character of Rip Van Winkle 
than with any other, though he has played many parts, and since he reached 
middle life, at least, he has played all of them well. 

His first visit to England was made when he was about thirty-two years old. 
He left New York with an established reputation as a fine artist, but his greatest 
triumphs were still to come. He had taken the character of Rip Van Winkle 
in one way here without attracting special attention. But he felt that there was 
g:reat merit in it if rightly produced, so he had the part rewritten and improved ; 
then he gave it careful study, and finally when fully prepared he presented it on 
ciie London stage, where it met with enthusisatic praise at once. 

A great comedian — it is said — is always rarer than a great actor in tragedy ; 



O 



John Singleton Copley. 48 

and if ever that greatness has been presented it is in the art of this famous man. 
The deUcacy, the humor, and the pathos, the knowledge of human nature and 
the sweet atmosphere of innocence and lovableness that mark Jefferson's Rip 
Van WinJde make it a perfect piece of acting— a true work of art, which people 
are the better for having- seen. A celebrated preacher says that it shows better 
than any sermon the beauty of charity, and adds that Jefferson is the "genius 
which God has given us to show in the drama the power of love over the sins 
of the race." 

For many years after his appearance as Eip Van Winkle Mr. Jefferson 
played scarcely anything else. All the world was eager to see him in his great- 
est part, and would give him no chance to take up any other. It was only after 
nearly twenty years of constantly giving Rip that, a few years ago, he made his 
appearance as Bob Acres in Sheridan's play of " The Rivals. Since then he has 
often been seen in several old English comedies, always successfully, but never 
with the perfection with which he portrays the famous idler of the Catskill 
Mountains, unless perhaps it is as Caleb Rlumnier. 

He has several sons, who are constantly associated with him either as actors or 
as his business managers ; and all who know them in their familj^ life love the 
JeiTersons and feel for them the respect that is due to high-minded men and 
women. 

Honorable, and gentle, and refined are the terms applied to the great comedian 
by those who know him best. He is something of a painter as well as a great 
actor, and many of his pictures, though they are only the pastime occupation of 
his leisure, are really beautiful works of art, expressive of the delicacy and poetry 
that make him one of the most lovable of men even to the great public that sees 
him only over the footlights. 

Joseph Jefferson was born in Philadelphia on February 20, 1829. He is still 
playing occasionally in the large cities of this country. 

It has been said that the only American-born painter of real skill that lived and 
worked in this country before the Revolution was John Singleton Copley. 
He was a native of Boston, Massachusetts, and adopted painting as his profession 
when he was seventeen years old. This w^as twenty-one years before the battle of 
Lexington, when art was very little known in America and when the occupation 
of a painter was regarded with little favor by the practical Colonists. Through- 
out all the settlements there were only a few artists in the country at that time. 
A small number of these were Americans, and the rest w^ere foreigners ; none had 
any great abilit3^ For the most part, they gave lessons and painted portraits ; 
but none of them came within Copley's circle. He had no teachers, and it is even 



484: One Hundred Famous Americans. 

said that when he took up the profession he had scarcely seen a picture of any 
merit besides liis own. 

He was a very slow worker, and labored hard over his paintings — which in 
his early years were mostly portraits — giving- a great deal of care to all the little 
details of dress and surroundings. His skill was so wonderful that he soon made 
a great name and a good deal of mone}^ ; many pupils came to him, sometimes 
from a distance — in those days it was more of an undertaking to go from New 
York to Boston than it now is to cross the continent. There are still in existence 
many beautiful portraits from his hand ; for in those old Colonial days it was very 
fashionable to have the great Mr. Copley paint some member of almost every 
leading family in New England and New York. Beside his skill in making like- 
nesses and in faithfully picturing the handsome uniforms of the men and the gor- 
geous garments of the ladies, he was remarkably correct in his drawing and 
made most beautiful and brilliant colors. 

There was at that time very little in this country excepting patronage to en- 
courage an artist ; and so most young men who had a taste or a genius for art 
went as soon as possible to Europe, where they could see the work of the great 
masters and have association with other artists. Copley did not follow this plan 
until after he had been a painter for twent^^ years. Then, leaving his wife and 
family for a time, he went to England, where his name was already known and 
some of his work had been exhibited. He found the people ready to welcome him 
and to buy his pictures, and might have become very successful at once if he had 
stayed there. But his object was to go to Italy, and in that countr}^ he passed a 
couple of years in diligent study. Then he returned to England, and changing his 
mind about returning home, sent for his wife and family to join him— for the Ameri- 
can Revolution had just broken out in the Colonies, and Mr. Copley felt that it was 
a poor time for him to go back to New York : the people had something else to 
do than patronize art. ' So he settled himself to portrait-painting in London till 
the trouble in his own country should be over ; but he never returned to America. 

The English artists and the English pul)lic treated him very well indeed ; ilvej 
ordered his paintings, elected him a member of the Royal Academy, and so en- 
couraged his talents that he finally undertook history-painting, in which he soon 
became very successful . During the period between the two wars between England 
and America, he was busy with his brush, now at historical pieces, now at portraits, 
making a good living and enjoying the respect and friendship of some of the best 
people in Great Britain. The first of his famous pictures, outside of the portraits, 
was the "Boy and the Tame Squirrel;" and the greatest were the "Death of 
Major Pierson " and the " Death of Lord Chatham." It is said that scarcely any 
paintings of the last century rank far above these works. Our artist's election to 



Benjamin West. 



485 



the Royal Academy was upon the merits of the " Death of Lord Chatham," which 
represents the great orator falling-, just after he had made his celebrated speech 
upon the American War. It also contains the portraits of the most distinguished 
peers of Great Britain at that time. 

Mr. Copley's powers always showed best in his portraits ; a few of his other 
works have an undying merit, while many were feeble and lifeless in drawing and 
cold and dull in color. 

As a man, there is little known of him. We are told that he was peculiar in 




John Singleton Copley. 

his dress and in his manners, fond of books, a lover of history, and well acquainted 
with poetry, especially the divine works of Milton. 

John Singleton Copley was born in Boston, Massachusetts, July 3, 1737. He 
died in London, England, September 25, 1815. 



The greatest historical painter of these early times, the first period in Amer- 
ican art, was Benjaniiii West. He was one year younger than Copley 
and the son of a Philadelphia Quaker. He chose the artists' profession a year 



486 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

before his brother-painter and was already settled in England when the Revolu- 
tion broke out. From the time he was a little boy in dresses he showed a wonder- 
ful g-enius for making pictures of what he saw. It is said that he had never seen 
a painting- or an engraving- till he made a colored drawing- of his little sister in 
the cradle. His parents discouraged him, but he had to keep on. His fii-st paint 
was chimnej^-soot ; but a band of wandering Indians taught him to mix rude 
colors from clays, such as they used to daub their faces ; others he made from 
bark, leaves, and berries, and by grinding charcoal and chalk. Blue he got from 
the indigo that his mother used in washing, and his brushes were made with hairs 
that he pulled out of his cat's tail. When he was nine years old he painted a 
picture in water-colors, which in some points —he said himself in after j^ears — he 
never surpassed. 

The story is told of how he used to play truant from school, even when he was 
only nine years old, to work at his beloved pictures. As soon as he got out of 
sight of his father and mother he would steal up to his gan^et, and there pass the 
hours in a world of his own. At last, after he had been absent from school some 
da3^s, the master called at his father's house to inquire what had become of him. 
This led to the disco ver3^ of his secret occupation. . His mother, going up to the gar- 
ret, found the truant ; but she was so much astonished and delighted at the bo3''s 
work that met her view Avhen she went into his stolen studio, that, instead 
of rebuking him, she could only take him in her arms and kiss him again and 



agani. 






The people of that da^^ especially the Quaker's, looked upon picture-makin 
as a thing- that should never be encouraged ; but all attempts to keep Benjamin 
from it were in vain. He seemed to be inspired, and many of the Friends were 
afraid to oppose him. Finally a public meeting was called to see what should be 
done with the strange chikl, and after talking over it a long while the good Qua- 
ers came to this decision : " To John West and Sarah Pierson a man-child has 
been born on whom God has conferred some remarkable gifts ; something- amount- 
ing to inspiration, and the youth has been induced to stud^^ painting. Such rare 
gifts cannot but be for a wise and good purpose. The Divine Hand is in this. 
We shall do well to encourage this youth." Then the lad was called in to the 
meeting, and, standing with his mother on one side and his father on the other, 
he was surrounded by the assembly, which listened while the famous John Will- 
iamson said : " This genius is given by God for some high purpose. He hath in 
this remote wilderness endowed with the rich gifts of a superior spirit this youth. 
He hath our consent to cultivate his talents for art." The meeting was then 
closed, and as the women passed around they kissed the young artist and the 
men laid their hands upon and gave him their blessing. 



Benjamin West. 48? 

But Benjamin West was born to be himself whether he had the Friends' con- 
sent or not ; and while the Society was considering- whether they were willing- to 
let him paint he shocked them still further by joining a military company that 
went out to look for the remains of Braddock's army after it was defeated by the 
Indians in attempting' to capture Fort Duquesne. 

When the lad was sixteen he had already adopted art for his life-work. In 
the course of two years he painted portraits in the villag-es near Philadelphia, 
made his first historical picture — "The Death of Socrates" — for a gunsmith, 
and then, enlarging- his field, painted portraits in PhiladeliJiia, and finally in New 
York. Here he met some generous merchants who felt that his remarkable gifts 
ought to be cultivated, and offered to help him with money to go to Italy, the 
land of pure art and g-reat painters. 

Being the first American artist who had ever g-one to that country he was 
cordially welcomed in Rome. One of his patrons was Lord Gratham, of whom 
he made a portrait that attracted a good deal of attention, and was at first 
thought to be the work of Raphael Mengs, one of the iirst European portrait- 
painters of that day. His g-enius bloomed still finer with cultivation, and in a 
few years he became a member of the greatest art societies of Italy. 

In 1763, after he had been three years in the land of art and sunny skies, he 
started for home by the way of England. The people and the artists of London 
received him with mai'ked respect, paid many tributes to his skill, and finallj^ in- 
duced him to remain with them rather than g'o back to America, which, dear to 
him though it was, was at that time but a poor field for an artist. So, sending 
for Miss Elizabeth Shewell, who had promised to become his wife, he decided to 
remain ; and after a very i-omantic escape from her brother throug-h the aid of 
Benjamin Franklin and some other friends of the young- couple, the lady em- 
barked for England, and was married to West soon after she landed. 

The study in Italy had done great things for the artist's g-enius ; he had 
learned more about art than he had ever before dreamed of, and feeling that he 
had gifts for historical painting-, he had resolved to aim at that highest depart- 
ment of art — as it was then regai-tled. He had already been successful in a few 
such efforts in Italy, and in England his " Agrippina Landing with the Ashes of 
Germanicus " met with great success. It attracted the attention of King- Georg-e 
the Third, who sought the artist's acquaintance and became his friend and patron 
from that time forth for forty yeai-s. At the same time he held a high place in 
English society, and in 1792 he followed Sir Joshua Reynolds as president of the 
Royal Academ3^, but he declined the honor of being made a knight. Excepting 
for one year he was elected to the head of the Academy as long as he lived. 

It has been said that Mr. West's extraordinary reputation — for he was the 



488 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

rival of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and after that noble gentleman's aeath he waS 
rated as the best painter of his time in England — was largely due to the quickness 
and ease with which he worked — so dill'erent from Copley, who was painfully 
slow — and to the coi-rectness of his designs according to the standai-ds of the 
Academy. The chief merits of his work were the composition and drawing ; the 
coloring was mostly of a reddish-brown tint, neither pleasing nor like nature. 
While there was little that was peculiar to himself about his pictures, his works 
were remarkable for being almost all of equal merit : the llame of genius that 
burst forth in childhood burned with a broad and steady light till after he was 
past three score years and ten. Judges of art tell us that he never rested on other 
people's ideas, that his mind was as ambitious as it was grasping, and that all his 
fancies were true to life. 

'' The Death of Wolfe," one of his early pictures, formed an era in the history 
of British art. Against the advice of the great Sir Joshua and almost all other 
artists and critics, he painted this picture with the figures in the costumes of their 
own time— the custom before had always been to use the classical dress of the 
ancients. It was considered a very bold step and one that would probably hurt 
the artist's reputation ; but it proved a great success, and Sir Joshua was one of 
the first to congratulate Mr. West on his experiment. 

Most of his works were on subjects taken from earl}^ English history and were 
made for the king. He planned out a grand series of paintings illustrating the 
progress of revealed religion for the chapel of Windsor Castle. Twenty-eight of 
these were finished ; but, in the first part of this century, the royal patron be- 
came insane and the Prince Regent canceled his order for the rest of the series. 
Mr. West was then sixty-seven years old, and felt pretty downcast over the 
unfortunate turn affairs had taken. It was then that his countrymen in Philadel- 
phia showed him their appreciation by electing- him, "as the most distinguished 
son of Pennsylvania in the ranks of art," an honorary member of their newly 
founded Academy of Art. 

After a little time he began a new series of religious pieces, the first of which, 
** Christ Healing the Sick," was intended as a present to the Pennsjdvania Hospi- 
tal. But this was bought by the British Institute for about fifteen thousand dol- 
lars, and a copy with some alterations was made and sent by the artist to Phila- 
delphia, where it was most cordially received and greatly admired. It may still 
be seen in the hospital. It is one of the few of his works to be found in America. 
Others are "Death on the Pale Horse" — which was the most remarkable work 
of the second religious series — his "Christ Rejected," and his " Cupid," all of 
them in Philadelphia; his "Lear" is in the Boston Athenceum and two of his 
pictures illustrating scenes described in Homer's Iliad are in the Historical Rooms 



John TrumbulL 489 

in New York City. Most of his pieces, the famous ''Battle of La Hague," sev- 
eral other of liis great battle scenes, and many other works, are in England, where 
they are preserved with great care as some of the best history pictures owned by 
the nation. 

During a long career of almost unbroken prosperity, this industrious artist 
painted or sketched over four hundred pieces, many of which are of great size ; 
and when the venerable hand was finally stilled by death it was found that he 
had more than two hundred drawings beside his pictures. Few men of his time 
were more highly respected than Mr. West. He was a thorough gentleman — 
honorable, kindly, and generous ; outside of his abilit}^ in art, he was a man of 
great force of character, and his name goes down in history as that of one of the 
ablest and greatest men our country has produced. He never forgot his love 
for America. He did a great deal to help and encourage the young artists who 
went from here to England. Many of them would go directl}^ to him on arriving 
in London, and he always gave them his friendship, influence, and aid. Often he 
invited them to set up their easels in his studio, giving them all the advice and 
instruction he could. 

The loss of the king's patronage was soon made good by the honor and respect 
paid him by the people. He was esteemed above almost any artist of his time, 
both in England and America, and when death came to him at last his body was 
laid in St. Paul's Cathedral b^^ the side of England's own great painters, John 
Opie and Sir Joshua Reynolds. 

Benjamin West was born at Springfield, Pennsylvania, October 10, 1738. He 
died in London, England, March 11, 1820. 

It has been said that perhaps the first painter who gave a national turn to fine 
arts in America was John Trumbull. This handsome, courtl}^ gentleman — the 
son of famous old Jonathan Trumbull, the Colonial Governor of Connecticut — was 
an able soldier in the Revolution; he was also a scholarly man, and among the 
rare few of his time who had been favored with a classical education at Harvard 
University. 

No one thought of him as a painter until some time after he had won consider- 
able military fame. First he was known as a high-spirited, proud, and quick- 
tempered young fellow, wlio made drawings of the British works that won for him 
the post of aid to General Washington ; then he became a major and stormed the 
works of Burgoyne at Saratoga. His bravery and good soldiership brought him 
promotions, one after another, until he finally became a colonel. Although few 
people knew of him as an artist he always had a love and some talent for art ; 
and long before he went into the war a copy of a great Vandyck, which was made 



490 One Hundred Fcimous Americans. 

by Smybert — a Scotchman who came to this country and did a great deal for our 
young- artists — had given him a passion for color and for the painting of historical 
pictures ; so, when he became displeased with some act of Congress in regard to 
his commission and he threw it up, his first thought was to go to England and 
study painting. Arriving in London, he sought out his famous countryman, and 
was soon asked to join the company of earnest young American artists that 
g"athered around Benjamin West, who was then about forty-two years of age 
and already a man of very high standing and a favorite with the king. 

Trumbull's gifts were for portraits and historical painting, and the powerful 
though somewhat faulty pictures he made of Washington, Hamilton, and others, 
are among the most spirited works in the galleries of American art. But his 
masterpieces were historic scenes: ''The Declaration of Independence," "The 
Siege of Gibraltar," and the noble canvases of the "Death of Montgomery" 
and the "Battle of Bunker Hill." An American writer on art says that the last 
two "were not surpassed by any similar works in the last century, and thus far 
stand alone in American historical painting. When John Trumbull painted those 
two pictures, he was iuspired by the fires of genius for once in his life. His later 
historical works are so inferior in all respects as scarcely to seem to be by the same 
hand." 

After nine years of study and work, he returned to America, but went back 
twice after that, one time as secretary to John Jay, then United States Minister 
to England. Finally, after the close of the War of 1812, he settled in this 
country for good, and painted the four larg-e national pictures for the rotunda of 
the Capitol at Washington — the "Declaration of Independence," the "Surrender 
of Burgoyne," the "Surrender of Cornwallis," and the " Resignation of General 
Washington at Annapolis, December 23, 1783." These are chiefly valuable for 
their portraits. 

Trumbull, like all our artists of that time, was very anxious to see this country 
improve in art ; and it was with great joy that in the latter part of his life he saw 
his hope beginning to be fulfilled. He lived to see artistic taste and abiht^^ grow- 
ing up among his fellow-countrymen, and also the awakening of the first feeble 
attempts to teach painting, engraving, and sculpture in his native land. He was 
one of the founders of the Academy of Fine Arts — the mother of the National 
Academy of Design — and was its president as long as it lived, which was nine 
years. 

John Trumbull was born in Lebanon, Connecticut, June 6, 1756. He died in 
New York City, November 10, 1843. 



Gilbert Stuart. 



491 



The 3^ear 1756 was a doubly important one to American art, for it not only saw 
the birth of Trumbull, but of his still more gifted brol her-artist, Gilbert Stuart, 
who has been ranked as " the greatest colorist and jiortrait-painter we have seen 




Gilbert Stuart. 



on this side of the Atlantic." He was born in a family of both Scotch ?ind Welsh 
blood, and his father, out of loyalty to the young- g-randson of James II., then 
claiming his right to the throne of England, added the name of Charles to that 
of Gilbert, which had already been given to his son ; but the artist himself 
dropped this in after years, though it is now often used as part of his name. 



492 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Like many of our early artists, Stuart showed his talent and energy while he 
was but a hoy ; he was only thirteen years old when he began to draw likenesses 
with black lead-pencil, and when he was eighteen he undertook serious stud}'^ to 
prepare himself to become a painter. These early lessons were with a Scotch 
portrait-painter, named Cosmo Alexander, who was staying- in Newport at that 
time. Stuart's interest in art and his decided gifts interested the Scotchman ver3^ 
much; he took him with him on a tour through the Southern States and finally 
invited him to return with him to Scotland. But the}' had not been there long- 
before Alexander died, leaving his pupil in the care of Sir George Chalmers, who 
also died in a short time ; and the poor Ameiican lad suddenly found himself en- 
tirely alone. Feeling unlike fighting his way sing-le-handed in a strang-e land, he 
got a place before the mast and worked his passage home. Then he settled in 
his native town— Narrag-ansett, Rhode Island — and without any more lessons 
began a successful career as a portrait-painter. He moved to Boston and finally 
to New York, receiving- many orders and becoming- quite celebrated. In the Avinter 
before the Revolution beg-an, he and his life-long- friend. Dr. Benjamin Water- 
house, held the first '' life class " in America. Procurhig- a muscular blacksmith 
for a model they practiced tog-ether and alone the drawing- of the human figure 
from life. v 

The next autumn — when Stuart was twenty- two years old— he set sail for Lon- 
don, where for two years he lived a wild Bohemian life, making- little progress in his 
work and sufi^ering much from povert3^ He was a skillful musician as well as a 
painter, and once, when he was very poor, he was attracted in his desolate walk 
through the London streets by the sound of an organ in an opened church. Going 
in he found that several persons were playing before a committee to select an 
organist for tlie church. He asked for the privilege of playing with the others, 
and being allowed to do so, he was selected for the place at a salary that covered 
all his wants. Meanwhile he painted also, having a few sitters through the influ- 
ence of Dr. Waterhouse, who was then in London also, studying medicince. But 
even with these chances, he had only scanty success till he met that ever-faitbful 
friend of American artists, Benjamin West. He saw Stuart's gifts at once, offered 
him valuable assistance, and for several years made him a member of his own 
famil3\ 

Stuart was a man of fine social qualities, but his life was always marred and 
his work much broken by his love of liquor and gay company. In West's studio, 
though, he studied industriously beside John Trumbull and several other talented 
young artists. After a time — it was the year in which the Revolution closed — he 
opened a studio of his own in London, and made portraits of King George III., 
the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Northumberland, Sir Joshua Reynolds, John 



Gilbert Stuart. 493 

Kemble, the great actor ; Colonel Barre, and many other celebrated persons. He 
rose almost as high as the great Sir Joshua as a portrait-painter, and became 
the first man in that branch of art in Great Britain. He went to Dublin and to 
Paris to paint the portraits of some great people there, Louis XVI, among others 
in Paris ; and in 1793, leaving- Copley and West in the height of their fame in Lon- 
don, he returned to America — far more famous and a much better artist than when 
he left it. In Philadelphia, Washington, and the other chief cities of the land, he 
painted the portraits of the greatest men and loveliest women of the time. His 
studio was thronged with patrons and admirers and his genial society was wel- 
comed in the highest circles. His best and most famous work was in the portraits 
of Washuigton. He made three original paintings and twenty-six copies of them. 
By all tlie best judges, these portraits have alwa3's been looked upon as the best 
likenesses and the most faithful portraits of the character of our first commander 
and statesman that have ever been made. Among* them is the famous f ull-leng-th 
painting which represents the great man "crowned with glory and honor, and in 
the majesty of a severe old age." Others of his greatest portraits were of Jeffer- 
son and Monroe, while the famous picture of John Quincy Adams was left un- 
finished at his death and was completed by Thomas Sull}^, an English painter 
who worked mostly in this country and whose portraits have a rare grace and re- 
finement. 

Stuart's works are widely scattered on both sides of the Atlantic. It has been 
said that as a painter of heads he holds the first place among- all American artists 
— some critics except Copley — and that his flesh coloring- rivals the best work of 
modei-n times. But, unlike Copley, he gave little care to anything- in the picture 
beside the head ; the dress and surrounding-s are often done in a very slovenly 
manner. 

It is also said of him that in power of drawing and expression, and in truth and 
purity of color, his portraits stand almost without rival in American and Euro- 
pean art. He had great powers of showing- the character of the face he painted. 
Washington Allston said that he seemed to dive into the thoughts of men, for 
they were made to live and speak on the surface ; adding also that he was in the 
widest sense a philosopher in his art, thoroughly understanding its principles in 
harmony of colors, of lines, and of light and shadow, showing that exquisite sense 
of a whole which onl^^ a man of genius can realize and embody. ''Ainerica has 
produced no painter who has been more unmistakably entitled to rank among- men 
of genius as distinguished from those of talent." He followed no beaten track, it 
has been said ; his eagle eye pierced the secrets of nature according to no pre- 
scribed rules. His last years, from 1805 until his death, were spent in Boston, 
contmually at work, except during- the times that everything was neglected in in- 



494 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

temperance ; for the bad habits of the g-ifted artist grew stronger with his pros- 
perity, and, cUnging to him all his life, stood in the way of his ever reaching the 
perfection in art for which his talents fitted him. 

Gilbert Stuart was born at Narragansett, Rhode Island, in 1756. He died in 
Boston, Massachusetts, in July, 1828. 

The influences that Copley and West, Trumbull and Stuart brought into 
American art were English ; the Italian influence came partly from John Van- 
derlyn, who painted the beautiful pictures, "Ariadne " and " Marius Among the 
Ruins of Carthage" and the portraits of De Witt Clinton and many of our great 
statesmen of that day; but not from him alone, for the works of the celebrated 
Southerner, Wasliiiigtoii Allston, a greater artist than Vanderl^^n and a 
man of his OAvn time, were strongly influenced by the richness and purity of the 
old masters of Italy. 

This artist, who made such wonderful colors that he was called the American 
Titian, was the son of a Carolina planter. He could scarcely remember the time 
when he did not love art and had not shown a talent for it. It is told than when 
he was five and six years old his favorite play was making little landscapes about 
the roots of an old tree in the country ; sometimes he would fashion a cottage out 
of tiny sticks, shaded by little trees, composed of small suckers gathered in the 
woods ; other days, his plaj^ would be to make the forked stalks of the wild ferns 
into little men and women, by winding about tliem different colored yarns. He 
would pretend that they were people, and would present them with pictures made 
of the pomegranate flower. 

When he was seven years old he was sent to Newport, Rhode Island. There 
painting was his recreation from school duties, as it was also from the college 
studies that came on later. Soon after graduating from Ha ivard— which was 
in the year 1800 and when he was twenty-one — he returned to his native State and 
turned all his worldly goods into money to help him to learn to be a painter. 
This was no mean supply, for he had inherited a fortune ; and he was able at once 
to go to Europe, where he spent many happj^ years in patient labor and the faith- 
ful study of art and in the company of Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, and 
others of the loftiest men of the age. His nature has been described as pure, do- 
cile, unworldl}', and full of reverence for God and Nature. Among all his noble 
companions he felt himself that the poet Coleridge, who was his intimate friend 
for many years, had had the greatest influence upon his mind. In art he was in- 
spired most by the Italian masters, though his teachers were West and Reynolds, 
beside John Henry Fuseli, the follower of Michael Angelo. Vanderlyn and Thor- 
waldsen, the great Danish sculptor, were his intimate friends. It has been said 



Washington Allston. 495 

that no private American ever made a better or more lasting impression abroad 
than Washing-ton Allston. He had a fine, noble mind, with the highest ideals, and 
he wrote exceedingly well both poetry and prose. But it is as a painter that he is 
really famous, and especially as a colorist. 

After being in Europe — mostly in Rome — for about five years, he came back 
to America for a couple of years, married the sister of William E. Channing, and 
then went to England in 1811. He there entered upon his career as an artist, pro- 
ducing a number of works of merit, most of which were upon subjects taken from 
sacred history. One of these was " Uriel and the Sun," and another, '* The Dead 
Man Revived by Touching the Bones of Elijah," won the great two-hundred- 
guinea prize of the British Institution and was bought by the Philadelphia Acad- 
emy. These and the other works that came from Allston 's brush at this time 
"showed high imaginative power and a rare mastery of color, light, and shade." 

After about five years of excellent work and very profitable study in England, 
Mr. Allston went to Paris, and in the next year — 1818 — he returned to America 
and settled himself to spend the rest of his life in Cambridgeport, Massachusetts. 
It was here that Horatio Greenough, the ambitious 3^oung sculptor, first met 
him, and found in him a great master. Greenough says : " Allston taught me 
first how to discriminate — how to think — how to feel. Before I knew him I felt 
strongly but blindly as it were ; and if I should never pass mediocrity I should 
feel that it was because of my being away from him." 

Allston's coming back to America was an unfortunate thing for his art ; though 
his countrymen appreciated him for the large reputation he had made in England 
and admired his work, he found among them scarcely any of that sort of in- 
telligent appreciation, sympathy, and patronage which was necessary to such a 
sensitive nature as his, and which in Europe had been like warm sunshine to 
bring out his gifts. While his mind teemed with great and lofty ideals, his paint- 
ing became listless and irregular ; and during the quarter century that he lived 
here he finished nothing that could compare in importance with his earlier work. 
Altogether his works are not very many, but tliej^ " aU bear the imprint of an orig- 
inal and artistic mind. The best are founded on Scriptural subjects. He also 
painted landscapes and sea pieces of great excellence, and in ideal portraits com- 
bined an almost unrivaled purity of flesh tints with depth and power of expres- 
sion." It has been said that it seems as if he might have made paintings of more 
absolute power than he did, because he left many crayon sketches and studies for 
pamtings which are "full of fire, energy, and beauty, delicate fancy, and creative 
power." Sometimes, but rarely, we " get a glimpse of the fervor and grandeur of 
the imagination that burned in that brain, whose thoughts were greater than its 
capacity for expression." 



496 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

After his return to America till his death most of his painting- time was put 
upon the one Avork, " Belshazsar's Feast," which he hoped to make his master- 
piece. He made the studies for it in London in 1815, and for almost thirty years he 
worked upon it from time to time ; but, suffering- often with attacks of bad health, 
and having an ideal that g-rew hig-her as his Avork went on, he had to leave it unfin- 
ished at last — a splendid specimen of his genius and a key to his life — which was 
greater in aspiration than in achievement. This painting is now in the Boston 
Athenaeum, and is one of the few of his works that are owned in this country, 
for most of his paintings — and there is a long list of important ones made before 
he left Europe for good — are owned in England, where his name is now and always 
has been more famous than it is here. 

As a man, as a poet, and as an artist, he had a soul for the Good, the 
Beautiful, and the True ; he lacked courage and strength, but he had a 
noble mind. Some writer has said he accomplished so little because he thought 
so much. 

Washington Allston was born at Waccamaw, South Carolina, November 5, 
1779. He died at Cambridge, Massachusetts, July 9, 1843. 

The 3^ear 1828 is a marked one in the history of American art ; for in it the 
American Academy of Design was founded, and the second period in our art — the 
epoch of landscape-painting — began. Up to this time historical pieces and por- 
traits, in which our artists are said to have even gone ahead of their English 
brethren, held the field of our arts. But now, led chiefly by that honored father 
of American landscape-painters, Aslier Brown Duraiid, a large number of 
our artists turned their attention to picturing scenery ; "and for forty j^ears a 
long list of painters have made the public familiar with their native land and have 
thus at the same time roused a popular interest in art." 

Mr. Durand, a son of an old Huguenot family of New Jersey, ranks with 
Thomas Cole, an Englishman by birth, and Thomas Doughty, who left the leather 
trade to become a landscape-painter, as one— and in most respects the greatest 
one — of the three founders of American landscape-painting. It is not in that 
branch of art alone that he distinguished himself. It has been said that few 
artists have been so successful as he in following entirely distinct branches of art. 
As an engraver— as his engraving of Vanderlyn's "Ariadne" shows — he has 
scarcely been equaled in this century; as both a designer and engraver, this 
country has produced no artist who could outshine the genius shown in his " Musi- 
dora; " in portrait-painting he took his place with some of the best; and in land- 
scape work — which he took up in his thirty-eightli year — he " at once became not 
only a pioneer, but a master." For massive handling, fresh and vigorous treat- 



Asher Brown Durand. 



497 



mcnt of trees see — says one of our critics — a model in his " Edge of the Forest " 
in the Corcoran Gallery at Washington. 

" The art of Durand is wholl^^ national ; few of our painters owe less to foreigri 
inspiration. Here he learned the various arts that gave him a triple fame ; here 
he found the subjects for his compositions ; and his name is destined to endure as 
long as American art shall endure." 

The stor^^ of Mr. Dura^nd's life shows that he had more than common trials 
when he was striving to become an artist, and that, in spite of those trials, he did 




Asher Brown Durand. 

an uncommon amount of good work. His first efforts were in the shop of his 
father, who was a watchmaker and silversmith; there he learned the use of ilne 
artistic tools, and became acquainted with the graver. He can scarcely remem- 
ber the time when he did not intend to be an engraver. When he was only ten years 
old he made an engraving of Washington's head on a copper cent, which he ham- 
mered out to about the size of a silver dollar. Educating himself for his art he 
kept on copying pictures on metal plates till he was old enough to be apprenticed 
to a letter engraver of Newark, New Jersey, with whom he afterward came to New 
York, and finally joined in partnership, having become meanwhile a better work- 
man than his master. The engraver's art was but little practiced and little cared 
for during the first quarter of this century, and the ambitious young artist had a 



498 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

liard time to make a name or much money. But he usually had plenty of work, 
of about all kinds, from making- business-cards to illustrating- Shakespeare. 
Among- the best work that he did in these earl 3' days was the well-known por- 
trait of Noah Webster — seen in his " Unabridg-ed Dictionary " — and the engrav- 
ing- of one of John Trumbull's masterpieces, " The Declaration of Independence," 
upon which Durand spent three years of labor. Following this were portraits of 
the great surgeon of that day. Dr. Valentine Mott, the celebrated Philadelphia 
physician. Dr. Philip S. Phj'sic, John Quincy Adams, the statesman, and Lindley 
Murray, the scholarly' author of the " English Grammars " and " Spellers." 

Well as he did this sort of work, his aim was toward a hig-her and more ideal 
class of art ; he wanted to study and to portray the human fig-ure, and, not being- 
able to get any living- model or to And anj^ worthy picture to copy, he designed for 
himself and engraved the famous and the beautifid " Musidora," which was so lit- 
tle valued at the time that Mr. Durand said himself it never paid him the price 
even of the copper. It was a new departure, and shows what g-enius and what 
courag-e the artist possessed. This was finished in 1825, and after two years of 
work, chiefly upon engravings of the great actors of the daj^ he began bank-note 
engraving', in which he made a high reputation. " His wonderful accuracy, the 
cleanness of his touch, were even more effective on the harder steel than on the 
softer copper." In this work it is necessary to make a delicate picture in the 
smallest possible space, and it has been said that there has never Ijeen an artist 
either at home or abroad Avho has been Mr. Durand's equal in this i-espect. But he 
himself looked back upon the five years he spent in this service as years of drudge- 
ry, for his taste was to a freer kind of art. It was relief to liim to change again 
to portrait eng-raving, and to work for the popular old " Annuals," which are 
forgotten now excepting- for the g-ems of American art which they contain. It is 
worth while to draw them from their hiding--places on the top shelves of the g-reat 
libraries to see the elegance and minuteness of their pictures — a beauty that is 
seen in no modern American eng-raving. 

Beside fancy portraits and figure-pieces Mr. Durand began at this time to 
make his first landscape eng-ravings — an effort that was coldly received by the 
pul>lic, because they were on American subjects — views about home, which were 
not deemed worthy the trouble of an artist. But his portraits— of Miss Sedg- 
wick, the writer; John Trumbufi, Stuart's " Washington," John Marshall, De 
Witt Clinton, and many others that came from his industrious graver — were all 
well received. In 1835, after years of patient work and skill, his eng-raving of 
Vanderlyn's beautiful " Ariadne " was published ; it was not appreciated at first 
and the artist received nothhig for it, but gr-adually its merit became understood, 
and it now ranks as " the highest achievement of the American burin." 



Asher Brow7i Durand. 499 

Excepting- for his work on the Bryant portrait, engraved by Mr. Jones and 
touched up into life and character by Mr. Durand in ISGO, after " Ariadne " was 
finished he laid aside the graver forever, having spent his boyhood and most of 
his manhood with it in hand, and having- made by it a lasting place among the 
first artists of America and of his ag-e. Now, in the prime of life, he put his 
labors into another branch of art, for he felt that engraving alone did not give vent 
to his inspiration ; he must express himself in colors. The secrets of the painter had 
come to him as he had been teaching himself all the rudiments of engraving ; and 
in the year 183G — when he was forty years old — he took up the brush, and dur- 
ing- the next forty years made it the chief tool of his art. He visited Europe not 
long after, but soon returned to spend the rest of his working years in devotion 
to his nev/ly-chosen branch of his grand profession. He painted with success 
portraits — notably one of his friend John Trumbull — and historical subjects, of 
which the " Capture of Major Andre " is one of the best known, and still holds 
its place as the true picture of that famous scene in our history. But his greater 
achievements were in landscape-paintings — especially scenes among the mountains, 
along rivers, and other portions of the then almost entirely unportrayed beauties 
of the United States. Little work of this kind had been done until he took it up, 
and by his success he opened a new era in American art. 

Mr. Durand had not worked in colors long before he ranked among the great- 
est painters of his day — and the middle of this century saw a great many more 
workers and critics in art than seemed possible in the time of Copley, West, and 
Allston. When Professor Morse, the telegraph inventor, resigned from the 
president's chair in the National Academy of Design, Mr. Durand was elected to 
fill the place, which he did for seventeen ^^ears, resigning in the year that the 
Civil War broke out. 

When he was seventy years old, he left New York, where he lived for a 
long time, and built a great, roomy house upon the site of the place where he was 
born, and there the remainder of his beautiful, blameless life was spent. On ac- 
count of age and feeble health he laid aside his brush- forever, after finishing a 
large landscape when he was eighty-three years old, but though his memory 
almost entirel}^ left him, his love of art and enjoyment in pictures remained to the 
end, which came but a few weeks ago. The great, roomy studio at the top of 
the house, and all the rooms below were literally lined with pictures and studies, but 
among- them all there was nothing- so beautiful as the aged artist's venerable figure 
and noble head, crowned with the snowy locks of ninety years, and set with the mild 
blue eyes that lighted up with a wonderful charm the handsome, expressive features. 

Asher B. Durand was born August 21, 1796, in Jefi'erson Village — now Maple- 
wood, South Orange — New Jersey, where he died September 17, 1886. 



500 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Probably no American lias had greater influence upon the art of this country 
than William Morris Hunt, who died only a few years ago, while yet in the 
prime of life. His best work was as a teacher, but he was also eminent as a 
painter of portraits, of history, and of what are called genre pictures. This is a 
w^ord borrowed from the French, who use it as we use "kind" and "sort." In 
art it is applied to compositions or studies of the human figure which are not por- 
traits or historical scenes, but pictures of certain types of people. They may be 
in single figures or in groups, and are often composed in scenes that tell some 
story from life. (re?i/'e-paintings are made of any size that the artist may choose, 
while portraits and historical pieces are life-size or larger. 

Mr. Hunt laid the foundation of his splendid training in art by practicing- 
modeling for five years. He modeled when he was a student at Harvard, and 
afterward, when forced by ill-health to leave college without graduating, he went 
to the famous Academy at Diisseldorf, Prussia — where many American artists 
have studied — and there worked at sculpture as well as at painting- for almost a 
year. This was when he was twenty-one years old ; and even then he began to 
see that the noblest field of art lay be3"ond the set rules and old methods that 
were insisted upon by the Diisseldorf masters ; so, before very long, he left that 
academy for Paris. There, in the leading art center of the world, he found some- 
thing of the freedom that he wanted, and placed himself under the great master 
of history- and {/e/^?T-painting, Thomas Contour. It has been said that the cele- 
brated Frenchman proba1)l.y never had a pupil who did such justice to his 
methods as did William Hunt. The two pictures that first made his fame — 
the " Prodigal Son " and the " Fortune Teller" — are said to be very much like 
Contour's best work, althoug-h full of original impulse, and pathos, and beauty. 

While stud3'ing with Contour, Mr. Hunt saw the work, and was one of the 
first to discover the great genius of Jean Fran9ois Millet, Avho, close to the great- 
est art city in the world, had toiled hard and patiently for many years without 
any recognition. Hunt saw in him a great, orig-inal master artist, who obe.yed 
the voice of his own g-enius, scorning to turn aside into the beaten track or to fol- 
low the rules of any school, though all the critics and artists of Paris should pass 
him by. Soon after Hiait came to know this great, calm, faithful artist, he made 
arrangements to become his pupil. This was the beg'inning of a vast change for 
the now much-admired Millet, and it was a step of large importance to Mr. Hunt, 
and through him to American art. It has been said that through Mr. Hunt the 
great first principles of art began to be mastered and brought to America with 
the most advanced theories, truths, or discoveries in the technical part of the sub- 
ject, as they had never been before. What he learned in Paris was the means of 
an improvement in the art of his own country never befoi^e dreamed of. He was 



William Morris Hunt. 501 

^ man of great force of character more than of original genius ; and he had the 
true ideas ahout art. He saw what it should be and what its followers should 
aim at, what can he done by it and what cannot. It was in all this that his years 
of study in Europe gave him great knowledge and judgment — more, probably, 
than any other American has ever had ; and when he came back to the United 
States in 1855, he placed these rich stores within the reach of his brother and sis- 
ter artists. He first made his home at Newport, Rhode Island, and then, for the 
rest of his life, in Boston, introducing new methods and large ideas to American 
ai'tists and art lovers, and forming among them a circle of ]jowerful influence. 

Tliere soon gathered round iiim a school that took in and further spi'ead his 
opinions, and, in some cases, profited by his style and influence ; he also was the 
means of sending a larg'e number of art students to Paris and also to Munich, 
where they learned bolder, freer methods than those of the old school of painters, 
and enlarged their own ideas. 

Both in Paris and in this country Mr. Hunt painted many pictures which have 
g-reat merit and beauty ; but " it cannot be said that he has added greatly to the 
sum of the world's art by anything strikingly original." The most noted of his 
portraits is that of Judge Shaw, m which — critics say — he does not show the 
influence of either of his masters. Treating it wholly in his own way, he has pre- 
sented " a figure as classic in its dress-suit as if it wore a toga. It is the por- 
trait of a stout, middle-aged man with all the experieriCe of life in his face." 
(Hunt's aim was to picture the character more than the outward likeness.) 
Strong and impressive in painting- men, he was fine, delicate, and often dreamy 
with women— so admirable in all, that even those who esteem portrait-painting 
as one of the greatest branches of art, have not hesitated to give Mr. Hunt first 
place in it. As a colorist, though, Washington Allston and John La Farge rank 
above him. Among the most famous of his genre work are the " Marguerites " 
— two pictures painted on the same outline, one with Contour — boldly and brill- 
iantly done — and the other with Millet — gentle, tender, and seeming to be 
"bathed in a sweet, mellow glow." The study is a woman, with the back 
toward you, standing in a field of wheat, and plucking the leaves from a daisy 
she holds. He also made a very successful series representing picturesque types 
of city life in Paris, which were lithographed and published by the artist a little 
more than twenty-five years ago. The " Girl with the Cat" is looked upon as 
another exquisite piece of drawing and color, showing very plainly the influence 
of Miflet, as does also the " Violet Girl." Probably the " Prodigal Son " is the 
greatest history-picture of this artist. Its figures are wonderful character-por- 
traits. 

The last work that Mr. Hunt did was to paint the two large pictures called the 



502 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

" Flig-lit of Nig-ht " on the walls of the Assembly chamber, in the State House at 
Albany, New York. These were made from one of the first designs he ever mod- 
eled, and are reckoned the finest of all his works. 

" As a draughtsman no one is better, and this, along with his keen feeling, gives 
him a great power as a portrait-painter. He seems to know the whole range of 
human emotions. The subtlety and tenderness in some of his women's faces, 
the innocence and pathos of his children, the complexity of the man of the world, 
the power and impulse of genius — all these we note as we turn from portrait to 
portrait. He seems to have looked at his sitter with no prejudice and painted 
him as he really was." 

The greater number of his pictures are on exhibition in Boston ; a few are 
scattered in dirt'erent collections throughout the country, but many of them were 
burned in the great Boston fire of 1872, which swept away his studio with so much 
other valuable property in its headlong tide of destruction. 

William Morris Hunt was born at Brattleboro', Vermont, March 31, 1824. He 
died at the Isles of Shoals, New Hampshire, September 8, 1879. 

Among the other prominent American artists of recent times Eastman 
Johnson is thought to stand foremost in American geTire-painting. He " was 
among the first to recognize in American life the picturesque and characteristic 
traits which our artists were once fain to see abroad. Thanks to his admirable 
example, American genre-^-A,\\\\mg now rivals that of any European nation in va- 
riet3^ and excellence, and gives promise of greater triumphs in the future." (Mr. 
Johnson was born in Maine in 1824, and now lives in New York City.) William 
H. Beard — famous for his excellent and often witty bear pictures — ranked as the 
best painter of animals in America. He was born in 1825, and died in 1000. Beside 
these there are the names of John F. Kensett — who died in 1872 — Sanford R. Giflford, 
and R. Swain Gifford among the most original landscape-painters, while along with 
them are many others distinguished in both landscapes and marine pieces. Among 
historical painters of recent times tlie most vigorous work and the greatest num- 
ber of pictures have come from Emanuel Lentz, wnose " Washington Crossing 
the Delaware " is well known from engraving's. 

Many of our artists have done their best work and made themselves a lasting 
name by illustrating papers, magazines, and books. Among these the most cele- 
brated are Felix O. C. Darley, of Philadelphia, who was one of the first artists 
to draw for engravers, and who will ever be famous for his illustrations for the 
works of Irving, Cooper, Longfellow, and others ; Thomas Nast, whose cartoon 
sketches for Harper's Weeklij have been one of the most powerful political influ- 
ences of the age ; C. S. Reinhart, who, for many years, has been making some of 



Alexander Anderson. 



503 



the best sketches of people, for a great variety of different stories, articles, and 
poems tliat have appeared in our books and magazines ; and Edwin A. Abbey, 
who is much younger than Reinhart, and shows a greater abilit.^' than almost any 
ilhistrator of his time. He is also a very successful ge?ire-paintei' in water-colors. 
Beside these there are W. H. Gibson, famous for out-of-door sketches ; George 
H. Boughton, Frederick Diehlman, How^ard Pyle, and many others. 




Alexander Anderson. 

(From a portrait eii^'raved by liimself in his eighty-fourth year.) 

Along with these artists and of equal importance to this branch of art are 
our wood-engravers, of whom there are now many. William Linton, Thomas 
Cole, Davis, Juengling, being only a few of the most prominent ones. The leader 
in these ranks, which have now grown very large, was Alexander Anderson. 
He was the first — and perhaps the greatest— wood-engraver of America. From 
before the beginning of this century, and almost till it turned upon its last quarter, 
the mysterious little monogram, "A. A." kept steadily appealing in its quiet 
corner on many hundreds of pictures, especially the illustrations in school-books. 

Alexander Anderson came into the family of the " rebel pi'inter " of a repub- 
lican paper in New York while the smoke of Lexington and Concord w^as still in 
the air, and was taken away to Connecticut by his father when he had to flee for 
his life with his printing establishment, upon the taking of New York by the 
British. After the trouble was over, though, the family returned and Alexand(^ 
Anderson's birthplace was his life-long home. 



504 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

He was an engraver born ; he loved art as soon as he knew enough to love 
anything; and he began to use the graver when he was only twelve years old. 
Being too timid to ask questions, he used to peep into the shop-whidows of jew- 
elers and silversmiths to see how they lettered spoons and ornamented other gold 
and silver articles ; then getting one of the big copper cents, tliat were common in 
those days, rolled into a thin sheet, he would work on it as lie saw the engravers 
work through the windows. In this way he taught himself the art of the burin. 
Another matter that he was deeply interested in, in these school-boy days, was 
medicine ; and a good deal of his drawing and engraving was done in copying the 
anatomical figures from medical books. His father — an able, sensible Scotchman 
— did not think very highly of Alexander's fondness for art, but lie ^^•as pleased 
that he liked medicine, and encouraged him to study to become a physician ; and 
so he did, going to Columbia College, and receiving his degree of M.D. when he was 
twentj^-one years old. It is said that the theories and opinions upon the causes 
and cure of chronic mania which were contained in the essay that he read when he 
received his degree have long been established facts in medical science. He began 
to practice medicine at once; but he had not given -up drawing and engraving 
meanwhile. By the time he was seventeen years old he had done considerable 
work for newspapers and had made so much progress in art that he was emploj^ed 
by a New York bookseller to copy some illustrations made by the celebrated Eng- 
lish artist, Thomas Bewick, the father of modern wood-engraving. Up to this 
time Anderson's engraving' for newspapers had been on t^'pw-mefal, and he had 
no idea that v/ood w^as used for the purpose. When about half the Bewick illus- 
trations were finished, he was told that the Englishman's pictures were engraved 
on boxwood. Then Anderson's should be. He procured some wood at once, in- 
vented proper tools, and, " to his great joy, he found this material more agreeable 
to work upon and more easily managed than type-metal." 

This was a wonderful discovery, and the happy artist devoted a great deal of 
his time after that to practicing his new-found art. " At the beginning of his 
practice in medicine he drew and engraved on wood in an admirable manner a full- 
length human skeleton from 'Albinus's Anatomy,' which he enlarged to the length 
of three feet," and which is said to be the largest fine and careful eng-raving* on 
wood ever attempted — " one which has never been excelled in accuracy of draw- 
ing and characteristic execution." 

When he was twenty-three, Dr. Anderson met with a sad loss in the death of 
all his famil3\ Home and happiness were broken up, and leaving New Yoi-k he 
went to the West Indies, making a long visit with his uncle. But finally he re- 
solved to come back to New York, and on his return he gave up medicine for en- 
graving, which was his life-work for almost three score and ten years. 



Horatio Greenough. 



505 



He studied with an eminent Scotch artist in New York and became a successful 
eng-raver on copper, makiiii^" several pictures whicli g'ave him a lasting- fame ; 
notably the frontispiece in Robertson's " History of Charles V.," and a portrait of 
Francis I,, which were published in ISOO. Then he set up for himself and did 
work on both Avood and copper until the 
3'ear 1820. He illustrated one of the ear- 
lier editions of the famous Webster spell- 
ing-book, now published by the Apple- 
tons ; and years after, when Di'. Ander- 
son was the most venerable, as well as 
the most famous member of his profes- 
sion, he engraved a new set of pictures 
for a more fully illustrated edition of the 
Speller, which was still as popular as 
ever. The pictures were made by one of 
his own early pupils — who at this time 
Avas a man seventy years old. 

During" his long- and busy life, Dr. 
Anderson eng-raved many thousand subjects. After 1812 he worked only on 
wood, and his skill with that became as g-reat as with his metal plates. He 
illustrated vnMij standard works, and was for a number of years employed upon 
the publications of the American Tract Society, only retiring- from that house in 
1865, when he was ninety years oJd. He kept his skill and mental powers almost 
unimpaired during- all that time ; and, until within the last twenty years, it was 
not uncommon in and about New York to see his veneral>le, thick-set fig-ure — 
which was never quite up to medium heig'ht — and to see his benevolent, kindly 
face among- the young-ei- men and women on the crowded streets. He was " ex- 
tremely reg-ular and temperate in his habits, g-enial in thought and conversation, 
and uncommonly modest and retiring-." 

Alexander Anderson was born in New York City, April 21, 1' 
Jersey City, New Jersey, January 17, 1870. 




THE FIRST WOOD-CUT MADE IN AMERICA. 



'775. 



He died in 



"The list of American sculptors embraces a number of eminent names, beg-in- 
ning- with that of Horatio Greeiiongli, from whose hand came the first mar- 
ble group made by an American." He was a Boston man, who was fortunate in 
having- a good education to start with in life, and the helpful interest of Washing- 
ton Allston to assist him in art. Leaving college before he graduated, he went to 
Rome when he was about twenty 3^ears old, and there devoted himself to his 
chosen branch of art. He returned to America several times and filled a good 



506 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

many orders here, but for the most part his hfe was spent in earnest study and 
hard work in Florence, Ital3\ As the first of American sculptors he won a great 
name, hut much of his work has not the merit to make his fame lasting-. He was 
certainly a man of intellect and culture, with a strong- love for art ; but as a 
sculptor his natural gifts were not so g-reat as those of others who soon came 
after him. He designed the Bunker Hill Monument, by which — it has been said 
— he will be known the long-est. He made a number of good busts of some of the 
leading men of his time — James Fenimore Cooper, John Quincy Adams, John 
Marshall and others — and soon after settling in Florence he made the " Clianting 
Cherubs " for Cooper, who was one of the first of his patrons. The most impor- 
tant order though, that he carried back with him after his first visit home, was the 
much-criticised statue of Washington which faces the main doorway of the Capi- 
tol at Washington from across the broad front carriag*eway. The bas-reliefs on 
the throne-like chair are really fine, and perhaps the half-nude Roman attire 
would seem less ridiculous upon our great hero and statesman if the statue had 
been placed where Greenough expected it to be — under the dome of the Rotunda. 
His group called " The Rescue," on the portico of the Capitol, is liked scarcely 
better than the Washington — so much nobler and more fitting a thing seems 
demanded in that prominent place. Mr. Greenough came here from Florence to 
oversee the raising of this piece to its place, but there was much delay about the 
work of moving it, and before it could be set up, he died of brain-fever. He was 
in the midst of his work when this sad stroke came upon him ; he had just begun 
a course of art lectures in Boston and left the sketches for twent}^ years of 
work planned out ahead of him. He wrote several essaj^s on matters of art, and 
was really greater as a critic of art than as an artist ; but his name will always 
be remembered and honored as the father of American sculpture. 

Horatio Greenough was born in Boston, September 6, 1805. He died at Som- 
erville, Massachusetts, December 18, 1852. 

The year which saw the birth of Horatio Greenough saw also that of his 
greater brother-sculptor, Hiram Powers. He, too, was a native of New Eng- 
land — from the Green Mountain State — ^but life presented a rougher road to him 
than to Greenough. While the Boston lad was preparing for and attending col- 
lege, and stud.ying under Allston, Powers was fighting his way in an emigrant's 
settlement out in Ohio. He passed through a poor district school, a clerkship in 
a store, an apprenticeship in a clockmaker's shop ; and, after learning to model 
figures in claj^ from a German sculptor he met, he became the superintendent of 
the wax-work department of the Western Museum at Cincinnati. After seven 
years in this position — when he was thirty j^ears of age — he went to Washington 



Hiram Powers. 



507 



and there built up quite a business at modeling- in plaster the busts of the noted 
people in the city. His skill had already attracted a g-ood deal of attention and 
interest, and won for him several friends. One of these was Mr. Nicholas Long- 
worth, a Cincinnati millionaire, who believed that the talented modeler had 



W 




Hiram Powers. 

unusual g-ifts for art, and sent him to Italy to study. Powers went to Florence 
where Greenough was already settled, and from that time the beautiful art city on 
the Arno was his home as long as he lived. He studied and worked very ear- 
nestly, and made so much of his talents and all the chances that Florence affords 
that before long- he became known as a g-reat artist. 

All his work has a peculiar delicacy and refinement that makes it distinct from 
all other American sculpture. The statues of "Eve," the " Greek Slave," the 
'^ Fisher Boy," "11 Penseroso," "California," "America," and the "Indian 



r>08 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Maiden ; " those of Washington, Webster, and Calhoun are all considered fine pieces 
of art Avork, and so are the busts of "Proserpine," Adams, Jackson, Webster, 
Calhoun, Chief Justice Marshall, Edward Everett and Martin Van Buren. The 
two most important ideal pieces are " The Last of His Tribe," and a "Head of 
Jesus Christ." Among these are some of the most famous pieces of modern 
statuary. This artist has left a great legacy to his profession in his invention of 
a process of modeling in plaster, which does away with the need of taking a 
clay model, and so makes the labor of the sculptor much easier and quicker. 

Hiram Powers was born near Woodstock, Vermont, in July 29, 1805. He died 
at Florence, Italy, June 27, 1873. 

Thomas Crawford, of New York, though younger than Powers by almost 
ten years and outlived by him sixteen years, has a name among the foremost 
sculptors of this century that even the celebrated author of the " Greek Slave " 
does not outshine. His style is massive and imposing, in the strongest contrast to 
the fine, delicate work of Powers ; but there is always a perfect harmony about 
his figures that keeps them from ever seeming to show any exaggerations. It 
has been said that Crawford held among our sculptors a place like that of Allston 
among our earl}' painters. " There is a classic majesty about his works, a sus- 
tained grandeur that is warmed by a sympathetic nature. He had what most of 
our sculptors have lacked — genius. Were he alive to-day, when a new order of 
sculpture is bursting its bonds, he would have few peers." 

His real art-education began about fifty 3^ears ago when he was a lad of twenty, 
wiio, having made his way to Italy and presented a letter of introduction to Thor- 
waldsen, was invited to work in the studio of the great Danish sculptor. He 
was a courageous worker and dearly loved his art. At home in New York, dur- 
ing all his boyhood, he had spent a great deal of time in making drawings and 
wood-carvings ; then at the age of eighteen he had found a place with some sculp- 
tors of monuments, and in the two years that he had stayed with these men he 
had not only made several designs for monuments, but had worked upon some 
portrait busts of Chief Justice Marshall and other men of the time. But in Ital^^, 
his aim was for the truest, highest art he could attain. It was soon plain that he 
had genius as well as great ability, but he felt that he could only succeed by inces- 
sant labor ; so he worked cheerfully and bravely year after year, though for a 
long time the orders that he received for portrait busts and copies of statuar^^ in 
marble scarcely brought him money enough to pay for his living and buy his 
materials. But one da}^, in about the year 1840, the eye of an American sight- 
seer in Rome fell upon one of his groups and from that moment the patient, con- 
scientious work of Thomas Crawford, which for so long had been going on un- 



Thomas Crmvford. 509 

known to the world, began to reap its reward. The American tourist was young 
Charles Sumner, the man of taste and culture, the polished gentleman of Boston's 
best society ; the group was Crawford's " Orpheus," representing the young l^^re- 
player entering Hades in search of his wife, Eurydice. Mr. Sumner was so im- 
pressed by the beauty and the artistic genius shown in this piece that he resolved 
at once that America should hear of the gifted man who had produced it as soon 
as he returned. He carried out his purpose, raised a subscription among his 
friends and ordered of Mr. Crawford a coi^y of the " Orpheus " in marble — which 
now stands in the Boston Atheuceum. When this was finished it was sent to 
Boston with several other pieces of the sculptor's work and placed on exhibition. 
Mr. Crawford, his genius, and his beautiful statuary suddenly became the topic of 
the time, and his countrymen were unstinting towaidhim in their praise, their ap- 
preciation, and their handsome support. This exhibition was an event that formed 
an epoch in his life. 

After this he w as able to give more time to original work : before, he had had to 
do a great deal of copying- to earn money enough to pay his way. He fitted up a 
large studio in Rome; and, his industry seeming to grow with his good fortune, 
during the years that followed, he did the greatest amount of the most of the 
purely classic work of his life. Many of his pieces were subjects taken from 
poetry and mythology, but the most famous probably was a series of bas-reliefs 
from the Scriptures. 

In 1844 — when he w^as thirty years old— he came back to America for a time, 
married, and left behind him the famous bust of Josiah Quincy, Jr., which he 
modeled for the library of Harvard University, but which is now in the Athe- 
naeum. When he returned to Europe it was with many orders for new works ; so 
that when he again came here, five years later, it was with greater fame than 
ever. It was while on this visit that he happened to see in a newspaper the pro- 
posals for the monument to Washington, to be set up by the State of Virginia. 
Preparing a model, he sent it to the committee, who unanimously accepted it as the 
best offered. 

One other visit he made to America in 1856, leaving his family here, and re- 
turning alone to Rome. The rest of his life— until in his last years he became 
blind and a great sufferer from a tumor on the brain— he was a most faithful and 
industrious worker. He turned out a vast quantity of pieces, all of which bear 
the stamp of genius, of original invention and fresh thought, though the mannet 
hi which some of them are done— what artists call the " treatment "—is often critic 
cised. 

When, in the prime of his busy life, Mr. Crawford's illness came on, he had 
made over sixty finished pieces— many of them colossal in size— while fifty 



510 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

sketches in plaster and designs of various kinds stood waiting- for the development 
of his ideas oi* the touch of his skilful hand. Beside the " Orpheus'' — generally 
said to be his best work — and the bust of Quincy, among- his most noted pieces are 
the statue of Washington on horseback, at Richmond, Virginia, and the colossal 
statue of Beethoven in the Boston Music Hall. In Central Park, New York, there 
^re eighty-seven casts of his pieces, and many other large cities in the countrj^ pos- 
sess both originals and copies of his best w^orks. The Capitol at Washington is the 
richest of all places in Crawford's sculpture. In the Hall are statues of Channing 
and Henry Clay, on the doors are his bronze gi'oups in relief, picturing the Ameri- 
can Revolution — believed by some people to be his masterpieces — on the pediment 
are his figures representing the progress of civilization in America, while above 
them all, on the summit of the dome, where her stateliness and grace is quite out 
of sight, stands his colossal marble figure of armed Libertj^ 

The last 3'ears of Mr. Crawford's life were very sad ; they were clouded bj' ill- 
ness and g-reat sutfering. In vain he went from one place to another, consulting 
the best ph^^sicians in the world, dying at last in London away from his Roman 
home and friends, and away from his family and his native land. 

Thomas Crawford was born in New York City, March 22, 1814. He died in 
London, England, October 10, 1857. 

It has been said that no American artist has held a more prominent position 
in the world or shown more abilit}^ to do many things well than the sculptor, 
musician, and author, AVilliain AVetiiiore Story, He was the son of grand 
old Judge Story, and possessed a goodly fortune and a fine education. After 
graduating from Harvard College in 1836 — when he was twenty-one 5'ears old — 
he studied law, was admitted to the bar in Boston, and by writing several law- 
books became quite noted in that profession during the next ten 3'ears. 

Before he was thirty years old he had written and published two volumes of 
poems — some of which are truly beautiful — and had also told the story of his 
noble father's life in two volumes. The next thing he did was to go to Rome and 
devote himself to sculpture for which he had a great love and a marked talent 
from early boyhood. Giving himself very earnestl\" to this he soon won much 
success, and it has even been said by a leading London journal that, after the 
celebrated Welshman, John Gibson, he was the greatest sculptor of the English- 
speaking race. 

He executed many tine portrait pieces, among which are a sitting statue of 
his father, which is now in the chapel of Mount Auburn Ceraeter}^ ; statues of 
George Peabody, Josiah Quinc}^, and Edward Everett; and busts of James Rus- 
sell Lowell and Theodore Parker. He also did several ideal works of very great 



Harriet Hosmer. . 511 

merit, among which are the "Shepherd Boy," "Little Red Riding- Hood," 
" Sappho," " Jerusalem " — said to be the noblest of all — a " Sibyl," and the three 
famous pieces in the Metropolitan Museum, of New York, " Medea," " Semi- 
ramis," and " Cleopatra." His most perfect work is said to be " Salome." The 
opinion of Mr. Story in America differs from that of the London journal. One of 
our critics sa3's that the very best of his works show more the talent of a rich 
and highly cultivated mind than the pure flame of genius. They ai^e beautiful ; 
we admire them a great deal ; but they do not make us enthusiastic. 

W, W. Story was born at Salem, Massachusetts, February 12, 1819. He lived 
his later years in Italy, and died at Vallombrosa, October 7, 1895. 

Among several American women whose genius or skill has won for them a 
noted place among sculptors, the greatest is Harriet Hosmer, a native of 
Massachusetts, who has lived in Italy ever since she took up the profession of 
art. Her fame ranks next to that of Mr. Stor^^ and her work is all strongly 
marked by her own individual thought and imagination. Her taste for sculpture 
showed itself when she Avas a livel}^, romping girl, i-iding horseback, hunting, 
rowing, skating, swimming — and enjoying all sorts of out-of-door sports, in 
which few could excel her. Her art work began with modeling in clay ; and 
when she decided to become a sculptor, her father — who was a physician — taught 
her to study all the parts of the human body, and afterward sent her to the medi- 
cal college at St. Louis. She was only twent}^ years old when she returned home 
from this course ; but even then she did such an excellent piece of modehng in her 
first work — " Hesper " — that it was decided to send her to Rome, where her gifts 
could be made the most of ; and there, in the grand old art city, she first studied 
under Gibson, and has since lived and worked for over twenty 3-ears. 

The most famous of her pieces are " Medusa," the much-admired statue of 
that famous woman of Florentine history, "Beatrice Cenci," which is now in the 
Mercantile Library of St. Louis; "Zenobia in Chains," a majestic figure which 
Miss Hosmer made her greatest undertaking, and in which she tried to express 
her ideal of a woman and a queen. Others of her most noted pieces are the 
popular little "Puck," of which about thirty copies were made, one being 
ordered by the Prince of Wales; the " Sleepmg Sentinel," and the "Sleeping 
Fawn." 

Miss Hosmer was born at Watertown, Massachusetts, October 9, 1830. 

Miss Emma Stebbins, the friend of Charlotte Cushman and the author of the 
"Life" of that celebrated actress, is another sculptor of note; Mrs. Freeman, 
of Philadelphia, has also done some beautiful works, and Miss Whitney, one of 
the few who have returned from Italy to work in this country, has achieved 



512 • Owe Hundred Famous Americans. 

marked success, especially in the statue of "Rome" mourning- over her past 
g-lory; "Africa," and a statue of Samuel Adams, now in the Capitol at Wash- 
ington. 

Most Americans and many g-ood foreign critics think that our g-reatest living 
sculptor is John Quincy Adams Ward, who did some of the finest and most 
striking of his works without having- had any of the foreign education that is 
deemed necessary to properly understand art. Mr. Ward is certainly the most 
thoroug-hly American of all our sculptors. He is an Ohio man by birth, and at 
first he thought he would become a physician, but, having a special gift for art, 
he broke off his medical studies when he was twenty years old and went into the 
studio of Henry Kirke Brown, one of the best sculptors in the country. After 
spending six years of study and encouraging- work with Mr. Brown, Mi'. Ward 
went to Washington, and after that — in the year in wliich the Civil War broke 
out — he opened a stucUo in New York, where he soon won a fame not only g-reater 
than that of his teacher, but in the minds ol many pei'sons g-reater than that of 
any other American sculptoi* of his time. 

" Mr. Ward is one of the more vigorous and individual sculptors of the age. 
While he is well acquainted with foreign and antique art, he had worked at 
home and has drawn his inspiration from the art and nature of his own land. He 
has a mind overflowing with resources, and his fancy is never still." 

Beside his statues of Fitzgreen Halleck, Shakespeare, " The Private of the 
Seventh Regiment," and the "Indian Hunter" in Central Park, he has many 
pieces that are marked by great ability. The best of all pei'haps is the bronze 
statue of Washington at Newburyport, Massachusetts. " There is in this statue, 
which is colossal in size, a sustained majest}^ dignity, and repose, and a harmony 
of desig-n rarely attained in modern sculpture." 

Mr. Ward's life has been a busy one; he has long enjoyed the friendship, the 
appreciation and respect of his fellow-artists in New York, and in 1874 was 
honored with the election to the office of President of the National Academy of 
Desig-n. J. Q. A. Ward was born at Urbana, Ohio, June 29, 1830. 



BUSINESS MEN. 



ri^HE extent and wealth of American business enterprise, especially in foreign 
J- trade, has been remarkable from almost the beginning- of Colonial times. 
Before the Revolution our commerce was large and powerful. In its annals are 
found the names of some of our most successful men — great in force of character, 
poAvers of mind, honor, and good works ; and it is to them as much as to any 
class of our citizens that the United States owes its growth and its standing 
among the nations of the world. 

Most of our greatest business men made their marlv after our country gained 
its independence. While Washington, Hamilton, and Jett'erson were building up 
the nation, and Jackson, Scott, Decatur, and Perry were fighting for its lights 
on land and sea, they were toiling to establish its commerce and trade. Some 
headway had already been made. A few important business-houses had been 
established before the Revolution, and were doing a large and profitable trade at 
home and with foreign countries. Robert Morris, the great financier of the Rev- 
olution was one of these. 

Another was Elias Htiskett Derby, of Salem, Massachusetts. He was 
probably the most important and the most respected New England merchant of 
his time. About five years younger than Morris, he had a tall, handsome figure, 
an elegant carriage, and the grave, dignified manner of a thorough gentleman of 
the olden time. He was an earnest, industrious worker, and gained his educa- 
tion and much of his good standing by his own efforts, for his father, a sea-cajD- 
tain and a merchant, was not a wealthy man, and called for Elias's help while 
he w^as still a growing boy. With few chances for education he made himself a 
scholar, and soon took charge of his father's books, wrote his letters, and attended 
to the accounts of the family. 

All this he did so well that he soon had a good deal of responsibility for his 
father, and for himself, too, for he married very young. From the time he was 
twenty-one until he was thirty-seven — that is, from 17G0 till the Revolution broke 
out — he not only had full care of his father's books, but of his wharves and other 



514 One Hundred Fcunous Americans. 

property, while he was also in business on his own account. At the beginning- of 
the war he owned seven sailing- vessels in the West India trade, and had a capi- 
tal of fift}^ thousand dollars. This made him one of the I'ich and important men 
of the colony. In those days Salem Avas a g-reat port. Boston only was greater 
in New England, an.d but few others were equal to it in all the Colonies. 

Mr. Derby's life was a private one ; he i-arely if ever held a public office, yet 
he was known and honoied, not onl^' in his native town and throughout the Col- 
on3', but in many far-off ports where he took or sent his vessels. 

There is no one who did more than he to improve the shijiping- and extend the 
commerce of the country, nor who has had a strong-er oi' better influence on the 
j'oung- men who became masters and merchants after him. 

He is honored, too, as a patriot ; for while most of the rich men of Massachu- 
setts sided with the mother countr^^ during the Colonies' troubles, Mr. Derby kept 
with the Americans, though it was the worst thing- he could do for his business. 
And he did more than side with the Revolutionists ; he helped them. At the time 
of the battle of Lexington, he loaned to the Government a large portion of the 
supplies for the army ; and three years later, when General Sullivan marched into 
Rhode Island, he supplied the troops with boats to cross from the mainland to the 
island on which Newport stands. He also furnished coal to the French fleet. 

During the first year of the conflict, he tried to carry on his business as if there 
were no war, but his trade was about ruined, and much of his property was de- 
stroA^ed, for the British cruisers did not spare the merchantmen of the rich Salem 
master. He found that he shoidd either have to turn his vessels into privateers 
— that is, to obtain from Cong-ress or the State the rigiit to capture British mer- 
chant vessels — or else give up the sea-trade, Avhich he and his fathers had followed 
for half a century. "Boston and New York " — history says — "had been occu- 
pied and nearly ruined by the enemy. Newport, Philadelphia, Savannah, and 
Charleston soon shared their fate ; and the main reliance of the country to keep 
up its intercourse with Europe, for supplies of arms and military stores, was 
on the shipping of Salem and a cluster of small ports around it.'' This demand 
was not felt in vain ; there were rich ship-owners and good seamen to answer their 
country's unspoken call to resist the deeds of the British upon the hig-li seas. JMi'. 
Derby was foremost among- them, and did a large share in fitting- out and arming- 
over a hundred and fifty private vessels that were sent out from Salem after the 
first year of the Revolution. These vessels did excellent service. Some few met 
with a sad fate, but altogether they captui'ed almost three British ships to every 
one they lost from their own fleet. As the war went on, Mr. Derby saAv the im- 
portance of speed in vessels, and before long he set up a navy 3'ard, building- a 
class of vessels much larger in size, finer in make, and of greater speed than any 



Elms Haskett Derby. 



515 



the Colonies had ever before had. They were m everj'^ way able to hold their own 
with the British sloops of war, which was a wonderful advance in American ship- 
building", and of great value just then to American independence. 

For himself, Mr. Derby made no effort to grow rich at privateering, as many 
ship merchants did, but he was fairly successful, and at the close of the war he 
had four good ships in place of the seven sloops and schooners that he owned when 
the conflict began. But privateering- gave him an experience which was of more 
value to him than its prizes. It taught him a great deal about commerce, and as 
soon as the welcome peace was declared, he started into new paths of his former 




Elias Haskett Derby. 

business. In knowledge, in courage and enterprise, and in vessels, he was now 
fitted for something- beyond the humble trade he had carried on before the war, 
and was ready for ventures that he had never thought of before. His first step was 
to open trade with St. Petersburg. Then looking about toward other countries, and 
finding that other merchants were filling the small trade between the Southern 
States or West Indies and London, France, and Spain, he resolved to start in to- 
ward the East and take his place with the incorporated companies of France,. 
England, Holland, and Sweden. He became " the father " of American commerce 
in India. He sent out a good ship to Cape Town and the coast of Africa on a 
great but successful venture, selling a cargo and bringing- back ivory and gold- 
dust from Africa, and sugar and cotton from the West Indies : but not a sing-le 



516 One Hund?'ed Famous Americans. 

slave, for Mr. Derby said he would rather sink all the capital he had put into his 
ship than to be hi the slightest way connected with this trade in human beings. 
This, too, when slave stealing and trading were common, and when America was 
about the greatest market for them in the world. 

He learned more about the wants and the prices of the India market from this 
expedition than he gained in actual profit, and from that time on, he sent out many 
ships to several great ports of India, and finally to China. He became one of the 
most important shipping- merchants of the time, leading the way for many others, 
mitil our nation became known and respected in the commerce of the world. 
Others soon followed Mi'. Derby's example in going to China, and by the year 1791 
there had been fifteen Ameiican vessels in Canton. But for a long time he kept 
the lead. He carried on a great India trade for eleven years, bringing cargoes to 
Boston and Salem from many famous poi'ts in the East , or cai-i'ving them to im- 
portant merchants of New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, oi" Richmond, for this 
great ship-master supplied Oriental goods to some of the largest houses in this 
country, beside carrying on considerable trade with almost all the impoi'tant 
ports of Europe. 

He supplied American commerce with trained seamen as well as ships. At 
the beginning of this century thei'e were few officers in the country able to take 
charge of an Indiaman on such long, untried voyages as he planned. So he had 
lessons in navigation given to many lads of the town at his own cost, and those 
who gave promise were put upon his ships. After a fair trial, all that showed 
tact and ability were soon given command at libei-al salaries and an interest in the 
voyages. 

He gave a great deal of thought to improving ship models and to all other 
matters connected with the progress and improvement of the great business of 
foreign trade. Without having any scientific knowledge about the building and 
sparring of ships he was an excellent natural judge of models and proportions, 
and had better success in his efforts to make swift sailing vessels than had any 
one els'e in this or any other country. 

" To him," says one of the men of his time, " our country is indebted for open- 
ing the valuable trade to Calcutta, before whose fortress his was the first vessel to 
display the American flag; and, following up the business, he reaped golden har- 
vests before other merchants came on the field. The first American ship seen at 
the Cape of Good Hope and the Isle of France belonged to him, and so did the first 
that cariied cargoes of cotton from Bombay to China, and his were among the first 
which made a direct voyage to the Celestial Empire and back. He continued to 
carry on a successful business on an extensive scale in those countries imtil tiie 
dav of his death. In the transaction of affairs abroad he was liberal- very miici 



Elias Haskett Derby. 51: 

more so than modern shipping- merchants — always desirous that every one, even 
the foremast hands, should share the good fortune to which he pointed the way ; 
and the long- hst of masters of ships wlio have made ample fortunes in his employ- 
ment is a proof botli of liis wisdom in hiring- and liis generosity in parang them." 
While the whole course of his life was devoted to his business with its man3^ cares, 
responsibilities, and larg-e interests, Mr. Derby was also a liberal and public- 
spirited man. He spent a g-reat deal of money to improve and enlarg-e the im- 
portance of Salem, to improve the defenses and the commerce of the country, and 
some of his large loans to the Government were for over sixty 3^ears unpaid to 
himself or his heirs, either in principal or intei'est. From about ten years before 
the close of the last century, as long as he lived, Mr. Derby kept up a correspond- 
ence with Benjamin Goodhue and Fisher Ames, members of Congress, and 
through them he did a great deal to influence the laws that were made in reg-ard 
to commerce during that time. When President Adams ordered a navy built, 
Mr. Derby was one of the foremost men to make up a subscription for Salem's 
share ; and it was from the yards there that the famous frig-ate Essex — built 
by Enos Briggs — was launched. She was the fastest ship and also one of the 
cheapest in the navy. She captured about two million dollars' worth of property 
from the enemy, was commanded by Captain Porter, then one of the most gal- 
lant sailors in the service, and, when she was taken at a disadvantage by an en- 
emy larg'er than herself, her commander and crew fought a battle which did 
honor to the country. Although she was afterward captured in ricutral waters 
in the Pacific, it was not until after one of the most savage and desperate 
struggles of all recorded in tlie history of the War of 1812. 

The last ship Mr. Dei'by sent out was a noble merchantman in command of his 
son, who had an eventful and most successful voyage with her to the Mediterra- 
nean, and did not return until her master had passed away from life. His estate 
was worth over a million of dollars. This, it is said, was the larg-est fortune left 
in this country during any part of the last century. It had been honorably made, 
by enterprise, care, and good judgment, and a good management that saved him 
many severe losses. His enterprise and wisdom in matters of commerce were 
above those of any other man of his time, and it is even said that few sea mer- 
chants, if any, have ever been greater than he. 

The large fortune and great business name he left behind him was stamped 
with the still nobler reputation of integrity, liberality, and high honor as a mer- 
chant and as a man. 

Elias H. Derby Avas born August 16, 1739, in Salem, Massachusetts, where he 
died about the 8th of September, 1799. 



518 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

When the patriots of America were in the last year of the Revolutionaiy War, 
John Jacob Astor — afterward the wealthiest man in the United States — was 
a sturdy lad of seventeen, just leaving his father's house in the German villag-eof 
Waldorf, near Heidelberg-. He carried with him a bundle of clothes and two dol- 
lars in money, and was further fitted to make his way in the world by a g'ood, plain 
education, a strong- constitution, plenty of common-sense, no bad habits and some 
very g-ood ones. " Soon after I left the village," he said, " I sat down beneath a 
tree to rest, and there I made three resolutions — to be honest, to be industrious, 
and not to gamble." He got work on a raft going down the Rhine, for which he 
received ten dollars at the mouth of the river. This took him to London, where 
he had a brother who made musical instruments for a business. Two years were 

%■' 

spent with the London brother, and at the end of that time John Jacob had 
learned to speak English, found out a good deal about musical instruments, got a 
good suit of clotlies and seventy-five dollars in mone}^ Twenty-five of the dollars 
bought seven German flutes of the elder brother, and twenty-five more paid for a 
steerage passage to America. On the voj^age he become acquainted with a Ger- 
man who had been engaged in buying furs from the American Indians and told 
young Astor a great deal about how to carry on that business, so that he resolved 
to try it himself. In New York, the two ship-companions went to the house of 
another brother of Astor's, who was a prosperous butcher. There the prospects 
for the young man were talked over, and the men decided that he had better find 
employment with some good furrier for a time, until he got a practical knowledge 
of the business. He went earnestly to work, and not only learned the value and 
the quality of furs, and how to take care of them, but all the details of curing and 
preserving them. From the trappers that came to the store, he learned the hab- 
its and the haunts of furred animals and the best way of securing- them, l^j care- 
fully attending to his business and m-aking himself useful to his employer in ever3'' 
way possible, he rose from one position to another, until he was even trusted to 
midertake the important errand of going to Montreal to buy furs. Now the ad- 
vice of his German ship-companion came into use. He had said to buy trinkets, 
go among the Indians, make the best bargains he could, and secure the furs on 
the spot. Astor found that the suggestions were very useful, and he was much 
pleased with his success in following them. When he returned, his employer was 
surprised at the great amount of skins, or peltries^ he had been able to get for the 
small amount of money he had spent. 

By the time Mr. Astor was twenty-three years old, he felt that, having care- 
fully studied the fur- trade in all its details, and having- had success in his practical 
experience in buying, he was ready to set up a business of his own. He took a 
small store in Water Street, which he stocked with toys and other articles that 



John Jacob Astor. 



519 



the Indians liked to get. Tlie store was small ; he had no help — althoug-h he soou 
took a partner — and the Avhole stock was worth only a few hundred dollars. 




^^;'; 



John Jacob Astor. 



When there were not many pelts coming- in he shouldered a pack of trinkets and 
some useful things and went out among- the Indian farmers and trappers, which 
were then numerous enough in Central New York. Usuall.y he was soon able to 
buy up or barter a good stock of peltric^s. Then he would go back and cure them 



520 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

himself. When he had been able to keep some long- enough to get a pretty good 
number together, he decided to follow more of his ship-companion's advice, 
and, instead of selling- liis goods to the New York dealers, decided to ship tlxem 
directly to Lon-don, where they would sell for four or five times as much as in 
America. Taking steerage passage he went himself with the first shipment, sold 
his own furs and made arrangements with several good houses to ship them furs, 
and to draw upon the firms to which they were consigned. He also made arrange- 
ments to act as the New York agent for the musical instruments made by his 
London brother. This was a good thing and brought him a large income; and 
having found a market for his furs abroad and secured the trade of Indians and 
white trappers at home, his business grew very fast. He lived over his store, 
having mai-ried a New York lady, who soon learned the business and had — so Mr. 
Astor said — as good a knowledge of furs and capacit}" for business as himself. 

Of course, by this time he had many assistants, and Jay's treaty of 1795 hav- 
ing placed the frontier forts in the hands of the Americans, he soon had his agents 
at work buying furs in many places along the Great Lakes, and even across the 
country to Oregon Territory. He thought of and planned out the vast scheme of 
stretching his trade across the continent, by setting' up a line of trading-posts 
which extended from the Great Lakes, along the Missouri and Columbia Rivers to 
the mouth of the Columbia, wiiere, in April, 1811, he founded Astoria. This was 
to be a central station, and then by getting possession of one of the Sandwich 
Islands for another station, he planned to supply China and the Indies with furs 
directly from the Pacific coast, instead of sending them all the wa^^ round from 
New York, as he was then doing. It was a grand plan, but two expeditions failed, 
and the whole scheme was finally betrayed to the British Fur Company of the 
Northwest by one of his chief agents. Astoria was the main point in the Ameri- 
can claims to the Oregon Territor3^, when the severe dispute was held over the 
Northwest between Great Britain and the United States during the years from 
1842 to 184G. 

After Mr. Astor had been in business fifteen years he left Water Street, 
bought the place at 223 Broadway — where the Astor House now stands — and 
moved his residence to a more fashionable part of town. By this time he was 
worth two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and was turning every article that 
he bought or sold into profit. The beaver skins that he bought for a dollar each 
in Western New Yoi'k he sold in Ijondon for six dollars apiece ; and, investing 
that money in English goods, especially the musical instruments, had the same 
ship bring back a cargo that sold at a large profit in America. After awhile his 
vessels went to Eastern as well as European ports, and the ships, bearing furs 
that sold at a large profit in China, brought back teas and silks that commanded 



John Jacob Astor. 



531 



excellent prices in New York. Usually a ship going- to China and back aver- 
aged a protit of thirty thousand dollars ; sometimes a trip netted seventy thou- 
sand dollars. 

He g-ave such faithful attention to his business and had such g-i-eat ability in it, 
that when Ms commerce extended over nearly all the seas of the civilized world, 
he controlled the actions of his ship-masters in the smallest matters, and it is said 




AsTOR Library. 

that he was never known to make a mistake in judgment, or in the facts that he 
pretended to know. 

It is reckoned that he made about two millions in the fur-trade ; but the greater 
part of his immense fortune was made in real estate. As fast as he could invest 
money outside of his business, he bought houses and lots in the upper part of New 
York City ; and sometimes, when people would not sell, he leased the property 
for a long time and made money by sub-letting it. After he bought a piece of 
land he built upon it, and began to make it pay at once by renting the houses ; 
but he would not sell them. The rents soon paid for the building of other 
houses, until the Astor estate had as many as seven thousand houses in New 



522 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

York City, a few in the central part, but mostly they were in what were then the 
suburbs — near Astor Place, along- the Hudson, near Fortieth and Fiftieth Streets, 
and other sections, which with the growth of the city soon became central loca- 
tions, and rose in valuation ver3^ fast. The Astor House, which was built in about 
1830, was then the finest building- on Broadway, and the largest and best hotel in the 
country. When it was finished he g-ave it to his eldest son, William B. Astor, 
who also received almost the whole of his father's vast property at his death, and 
spent larg-e sums in carrying- forward the works already begun by the great mer- 
chant. When he bought Aaron Burr's estate at Richmond Hill, he paid one 
thousand dollars per acre for the one hundred and sixty acres. Twelve years 
after it was woi'th fifteen hundred dollars a lot, and a lot is not quite one eighth 
of an acre. 

He left at his death the largest fortune ever made in America ; his estate was 
worth at least twent}' millions. Fifty thousand dollars of this was willed to the 
poor of his native town in Germany, and four hundi^ed thousand was left for the 
founding- of the Astor Libraiy in New York City, which received nearly as much 
more from Mr. William B. Astor, so that it now has a larg-er amount of money 
settled on it than is possessed by almost any free reference library on the Ameri- 
can continent. 

He made other public gifts, either while living- or in his will, of thousands of 
dollars to the association for the relief of poor old ladies, and to the German 
Society of New York. This was for the establishment of an office in the city where 
g-ood, German-speaking' clerks should be employed to give advice and information 
without charge to all immig-rants here, who might want to know about g-etting- 
settled in this country, and also to protect them against any people who might 
take advantag-e of their not knowing- the lang-uage and cheat them, or do them 
harm. 

The splendid success of old Mr. Astor, as he was long called in New York, was 
due chiefly to his temperate habits, his perseverance, his punctuality, and to his 
habit of making- himself thoroughly understand an enterprise before entering upon 
it, and taking- care that no money was wasted. In real estate he bought just 
in time to be benefited by a great and sudden rise in the value of New York 
property. He was always an early riser, aud until he was fifty-five years old he 
never failed to be at his store before seven o'clock in the morning. In this way 
he gave to his large and often perplexing affairs the best hours of the day, and by 
the time he was master of his great business, he was usually ready to leave at 
about two in the afternoon. He was very prompt in all engagements, and was 
remarkable for his coolness and cheerfulness in the midst of his greatest losses. 
But those who admired and loved him most could scarcely overlook the one defect 



Thomas Pym Cope. 523 

of his character as a business man. He was not liberal, but was extremely care- 
ful a'.ul close iu money dealing's, although he was sometimes g-enerous in chari- 
table gifts. 

John Jacob Astor was born in Waldorf, in the Grand Duchy of Baden, Ger- 
many, on July 17, 1763. He died in New York City, March 29, 1848. 

One of the g-reatest and most highly honored merchants of his time was 
Thomas Pym Cope, a Quaker of Philadelphia. When he was eighteen years 
old lie went from his coimtry home in Lancaster County to that city to learn to 
be a business man. He entered tlie counting--room Avith an excellent start, for 
he had a good education in English, German, and Latin. Step by step he rose 
to positions of responsibility and importance, until in 1790, after he had been four 
years in the city, he set up for himself. He built a corner store at Second Street, 
and what was then called Pewter Platter Alley, and beg'an business in a modest 
way with one fixed principle, " honesty alwaj^s." 

Seventeen years passed, and the business — still in the same store — had grown 
so large that Mr. Cope imported his own g"oods from foreigrn countries and beg'an 
to think of building a sliip for himself and entering the commercial branch of his 
trade. In this he soon grew to be very important, and after several years of 
success he established the first regular line of packet ships between Philadelphfia 
and Liverpool, England, which has endured through all the hard times through 
which American commerce has passed, and has long owned ships of great ton- 
nage. / 

A 3^ear or two after Mr. Cope began to take part in commercial enterprises, 
he removed his business to the famous old Walnut Street wharf, where he made 
the g'reater part of his vast business success. He was the friend, and in commerce 
often the rival, of Stephen Girard, who is very famous as a merchant but is 
still better known as a philanthropist. Like that peculiar French ship-mas- 
ter, Cope was generous and public-spirited, and during the yellow fever scourges 
of 1793 and 1797 he too went to the aid of his suffering townspeople, both with 
money and with his own work. He held some city offices about this time, in 
which he did a great deal to better the condition of the sick and the poor. He 
was also sent to the Legislature of the State, and was asked to run for Congress; 
but this he refused as it would take his mind too much from his business. Yet 
he was deeply interested in the prosperity and prog'ress of the country and the 
welfare of his State and city. Mr. Girard chose him for one of the trustees of 
his bank and as an executor of his will, by which so much was done for the people 
and the city of Philadelphia and for the improvement of the whole State. Among- 
other good things which the Pennsylvania capital owes chiefly to Mr. Cope are 



524 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

the good city water, the completion of the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, the 
buying- and laying- out of Fairniount Park, and the starting- of the Pennsylva- 
nia Railroad. He presided at the town meetings held about this road, ui'giug 
upon his fellow-citizens the great importance which it would be to Philadelphia, 
and giving more money toward it than any other subscriber. There were few 
questions of public welfare before the people of Philadelphia during the first half 
of this century to which Mr. Cope did not give some sort of vakiable aid. His 
money, his influence, his wide experience, sound judgment, and generous spirit 
marked the affairs of the city during all the years of his manhood. In liis own 
business, he had the highest position as the President of the Board of Trade of Phil- 
adelphia. This is a commercial institution, which has a general oversight upon 
everything connected with the trade of the city. It has the power to create, foster, 
and direct plans and means of business, and to decide upon the customs of trade. 
It is both powerful and useful, and must always be made up of the most sound, 
experienced, and high-principled of business men, for it is necessary that the 
members of the trade at large, who look to it for direction, should have perfect 
confidence in its members; and the head of the institution is the first man in it. 
This place Mr. Cope held among the merchants of his time as long as he lived. 

He was looked upon as the father of the Mercantile Library of Philadelphia, and 
was for a long time President of that Conipau}^ — which has always been the pride of 
Philadelphia merchants. It is, with its great store of books, its beautiful hall, and 
courses of public lectures, one of the most useful institutions in the city. From 
the time the Companj^ was founded, as long as he lived, Mr, Cope was rarely 
absent from these meetings, and among the younger merchants his upright figure, 
fine bearing, and firm and elastic step, was an object of respect and admiration ; 
and so enterprising and courag*eous, so wise and prudent had been every step of 
his honored and successful career, that he was looked up to as a model in his 
business, wliile his public and private life was a pattern to all the young men in 
the city. This to Mr. Cope Avas perhaps the greatest joj^ of his life — that his ex- 
ample was deemed worthy to be followed by those who. hoped to become the great 
Philadelphia merchants of the future. 

In social companies the young people begged his presence. He was so full of 
lively spirits, of experiences, stories, pleasant wit, and refined humor, and so 
kindly and good-natured with all his grander qualities, that everybody felt that 
his company was a delight as well as an honor. 

Altogether — we are told by a writer of his life — he was a merchant, enterpris- 
ing, liberal, and successful ; a Christian philanthropist, self-denying and devoted ; 
a man, upright, respected, and beloved. 

The business of a merchant is to buy as cheaply as possible, and to sell his 



Abbott Lawrence. 525 

g-oods for as much as he can rig-htly get ; it is to exchange the products, to help 
along" the intercourse of men and the interchange of merchandise between his own 
and other countries, to buy ships, to load them, to sell and exchange cargoes and 
vessels, with the object of gaining money or its value in every transaction. But 
all this is based on the " higher law;" and while Mr. Cope was a true merchant, 
his life was ruled by lofty principles of right and wrong. None of his success was 
gained by means which it would hurt his character to have exposed. He was 
square and just in all dealings, and jealous of the honor of his profession. His 
life told the story — which he was too modest ever to put into words himself — 
of an industrious, economical, prudent youth, of a just, liberal, punctual, enter- 
prising, middle age, not too fearful of risliing a venture, yet never foolhardy nor 
willing to buy success at the cost of another man's misfortune. 

Thomas P. Cope was born in Lancaster Count^^, Pennsylvania, August 26, 
1768. He died in Philadelphia, November 22, 1854. 

Fifty years ago the name of Abl)ott Lawrence was known far and wide 
as tliat of a " Merchant Prince " of New England, and a noble-hearted, generous 
philanthropist. He belonged to the generation younger than Elias Derby, and 
was an unknown clerk when Thomas Cope was in the prime of life. He began 
with a plain education gained at a country school — and in the latter part of the 
last century country schools were a good deal poorer than they are now. When 
he was sixteen he began to work. With his bundle under his arm and less than 
three dollars in his pocket, he started for Boston, where he became clerk in the 
store of his brother, Amos Lawrence, who was then a merchant of high standing. 
He was diligent and brightabout his work, "taking hold," as people say, far better 
than many of the boys around him. In a very short time he found that his 
schooling had not been enough for a successful man — as he hoped to be — so he 
spent his evenings in diligent study. 

After five years of good, faithful service, his l)rotlier took him into partner- 
ship, and they began working together with the prospects of a very fine business. 
But the second war with England came on then, stopping trade and bringing 
money troubles, so that Abbott Lawrence lost what he had and became a bank- 
rupt at the outset of his business career. As soon as the war was over his brother 
helped him generously, and they made another start together. Abbott went to 
England to buy goods for their stock. From this time he developed so much skill 
and prudence in his bargains, and so much industry and judgment about all busi- 
ness matters, that the firm soon began to make large profits. The trips were re- 
peated year after year, and the liouse of A. & A. Lawrence built up a great 
importing trade, from which Amos soon retired with a large fortune. Meanwhile 



526 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

tliey were very observing* of what Americans were capable of manufacturing-, and 
tliroug'h Abbott's sug-g-estion they looked very closely into domestic trade and 
resolved for the future to give more attention to goods made in this country and 
less to importing- from foreig-n makers. By turning- his attention to home manu- 
factures at once, he thoug-ht he ^vould be able to do a g-reat deal to help along- 
American industries, and he also thoug-ht that he could be among- the first to 
establish his house in a trade that would finally prove more paying- than importa- 
tion. He was willing- to risk the new departure, and try a great experiment for 
the sake of being- foremost in the trade, if it succeeded, and also for the sake of 
advancing- the manufacturing- interests of the country. So he stopped importing-, 
and, uniting- with the Lowells and some other leading business men of New Eng- 
land, he put his money and energies into a new and rather I'isky manufacturing 
scheme. A factory site was selected near a great natural fall on the Merrimac 
River, and then he joined with Nathan Appleton and some other wealth}^ Boston 
men, and incorporated the Essex Manufacturing- Company, for founding a large 
cotton manufactory there. The spot was chosen in 1845, and in two years a gi-eat 
solid granite dam was thrown across the rapids, and a canal ninet}^ feet wide and 
more than a mile long was made for the water to flow into and feed the mills, 
which were soon built. The first wheel was set in motion the next year, and the 
famous manufacturing- town of Lawrence was begun. The venture proved a suc- 
cess, and from that time forward all Abbott Lawrence's great business interests 
and labors were in cotton manufactures. He was the first great rival to the South, 
and attended the famous Convention at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, which sent a 
memoi'ial to Congress, and had some influence in bi-inging about the increased 
taiiff duties of 1828, against which John C. Calhoun prepared his famous paper, 
the " South Carolina Exposition," with its States' Rights doctrines, while all the 
cotton-raising States of the South rose in angry protest. 

The wisdom and judgment and great business success of Abbott Lawrence 
made him a marked man now, and there were many calls upon him to go into 
public life. But, while he was always willing- to do his duty, he did not wish to 
get into politics, and declined ever^^ nomination when he felt he could do so rightly. 
In 1834 he was a member of Congress and served so abl^>- that four years latei' he 
was again sent, although he did not wish to go. Once, during his second term, 
when he was home from Washington on account of ill health, the people of Boston 
became alarmed about the Government because the banks had declared that they 
could not pay out any more silver — that is, they had suspended specie payment, as 
grown people say. The excitement would have caused a severe panic in Boston 
and done great harm to business but for Mr. Lawrence. He told the people that 
thei"e was no danger of their losing their money if the^^ were not in too gi-eat a 



Abbott Lawrence. 



527 



hurry ; and everybody had such perfect trust in his judg-ment that they were sat- 
isfied when he said the Government was all right. 

He came very close to being' nominated Vice-President in the next election, and 
was offered a seat in President Taylor's Cabinet. He refused this office, but ac- 
cepted the offer of the ministr3'- to England, where he spent three years in service 
that was a credit to himself and an honor to his country. His beautiful enter- 







Abbott Lawrence. 

fcainments, courteous manners, and noble, benevolent character, made him greatly 
beloved and respected in London. 

He, and his brother Amos also, did a g-reat deal of g-ood with their wealth, by 
giving- to those who were poor and in trouble, and in great bequests to help along 
large causes. The Lawrence Scientific School of Harvard University was founded 
by Abbott, who also gave many thousands of dollars for professorships and other 
things to aid the institution after it was built and its work was started. He g-ave 



528 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

away about seven hundred thousand dollars during his life, beside leaving a hun- 
dred and fifty thousand by will for different charities. The most important of 
these were the model houses for the poor in Boston, and the Boston Public 
Library. 

Abbott Lawrence was born at Groton, Massachusetts, December 16, 1792. 
He died in Boston, August 18, 1855. 

Ainos Lawrence was four years older than his brother. He began business 
in Boston when he was twenty-one, and retired, leaving his brother Abbott in 
charge in 1831, about six years before the manufactories were set up on the Mer- 
rimac ; and from that time he devoted himself to taking care of his great fortune 
and to doing good with it. During the last twenty j^ears of his life he is said to 
have given over six hundred thousand dollars to charity, especially toward im- 
proving schools and colleges. Williams College, the academy at Gi-oton, the the- 
ological seminary at Bangor in Maine, and Kenyon College in Ohio, all were 
benefited by this generous man, while no list can be made of the large amount of 
good he did in a private way. 

Amos Lawrence was also born in Groton, April 22, 1786, and died in Boston, 
December 30, 1852. 

The largest fortune ever made in America was that of the famous ship-owner 
and railroad king, Cornelius Vanderbilt. He started out as a poor boy, and 
reached his great success by industry, economy, perseverance, enterpiise, and 
courage. He knew how to work, and knew the value of mone3\ He could 
always be trusted ; when he made a bargain it was fulfilled in the best possible 
manner ; and it was because his promises could be depended upon that he could 
command better prices than any of his fellow-workers. 

When he was seventeen years old he had a reputation on Staten Island and 
among the watermen around the lower part of New York for always doing what- 
ever he set out to. Daring, courageous, and fond of the water, he was then help- 
ing his father to run a sailboat between Staten Island and New York, to carry 
farm produce and passengers back and forth. He begged his mother to let him 
have a hundred dollars to buy a boat so he could become one of the harbor boat- 
men. Mrs. Vanderbilt said she would give him the money if he would plow, har- 
row, and plant a certain acre of rough land on the farm ; and it had to be done 
on the day she named. He did the task, won his right to the money, and joyfully 
got his boat. For the next three years he earned a thousand dollars a 3^ear, and 
by the time he was twenty-one was the first among forty of the leading- boatmen 
erf li-he harbor. His boat was better than any of the others, and his knowledge of 



Cornelius Vanderbilt, 



529 



the business was perfect. Out of the money earned in these three years, he saved 
enoug-h to buy his clothes and turned the rest over to his parents. 

There were many stories told fifty years ago about the daring deeds done in 




AvrJ:; 



Cornelius Vanderbilt. 



storm and danger by " Corneel" Vanderbilt, wlio was reckoned the bravest, cool- 
est, and in all points the best boatman around New York. 

In 1814 he bid with several others for the contract to supply the military forts 
about the harbor with provisions, and although his bid was higher than the most of 
the others, he got the contract, because it was well known that he never failed to 
do a thing he set out to. But this job did not interfere with his chance custom in 
the daytime, for, being regular work, he thought it could be just as well done at 



530 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

nig-ht, and so it was. He was married by this time, and, witli his wife's help, 
miide money very fast. In 1814 he built and paid for a little schooner, called the 
Dt^eadnaugJd, and the next year, with his brother-in-law, he built another, the 
Charlotte, which was put into the coasting- trade, Thi'ee years later he owned 
two or three sloops and schooners and had nine thousand dollars saved. About this 
time steamboats were coming- into general use, and Vanderbilt was given the place 
of captain, at one thousand dollars a year, to run for its owner, Mr. Gibbon, a new 
boat from New York to New Brunswick, New Jersey. He was earning more 
money at his own work, but when Mr. Gibbon offered him the place he accepted 
it for the sake of getting- acquainted with steamboating. The passengers which 
this boat carried had to stay all nig-ht at New Brunswick before thej^ could go on 
with the other stages of their journey to Philadelphia. There was a miserably 
kept hotel at New Brunswick, which Vanderbilt g-ot, rent free. He fixed it up, 
and with his wife in charge of it, soon made it a paying and a popular house. 
Captain Vanderbilt ran this boat line for Mr. Gibbon for four years, amidst a 
great deal of comjDetition and opposition, but so successfully that Mr. Gibbon 
made a profit of forty thousand dollars a year, and the captain himself saved 
thirty thousand dollars beside g-etting- the lease for fourteen years of a very profit- 
able ferry between Elizabethport, New Jersey, and New York City. 

Refusing all offers of partnership. Captain Vanderbilt now went back to doing' 
business entirely on his own account with the Caroline, a small steamer which he 
built, owned, and commanded himself. For nineteen years he steadily increased 
his ownership of vessels running- on the Hudson, on Long Island Sound, and in 
other places. He started and kept running- lines that were so opposed by large 
combinations of capital that they often cost him a g-reat deal of money, but he 
always was sharp and determined enough to drive his rivals out of the field or 
force them to make terms with him. He opened a new route to San Francisco by 
the way of the Panama Isthmus that made the distance between the Empire City 
and the Golden Gate a g-reat deal shorter. He started lines of steamers 
upon both the great oceans, and, single-handed, was the great rival of about all 
the ocean transportation companies of his time. Far and wide he was known as 
the " Commodore " of the American sea trade. In all he owned at one time sixty- 
six good, useful vessels, of which twenty-one were steamers ; these he g-overned 
and controlled himself. With a fortune of about forty millions he arrang-ed to 
leave the water in 1864, being- then seventy years old, and the owner of a large 
part of the New York and New Haven Railroad, several millions' worth of Erie 
stock, and the whole of the New York and Hai'lem Railway, with which he con- 
solidated the New York Central and the Hudson River Road, holding- controlling- 
interests in them. Before long- he made connection with the Michig-an Southern 



Harry R. W. Hill. 531 

and Lake Shore Roads, and put all under one manag-ement. This, with its side 
branches, made a line of two thousand one hundred and twent^^-eight miles, and 
had a capital of one hundred and forty-nine millions of dollars. 

Unlike Mr. Astor, whose wealth and power rose almost along with Vander- 
bilt's, th'i "Commodore" was far from miserly, with his facuit^^ for amassing- 
wealth. He spent money freely to gain a desirable end, often saying that he did 
not care so much about making mone3^ as he did about carrying his point. He 
was also ready to give freely to any cause that seemed to him a worthy one. At 
the opening of the war, he presented to the Government the steamer VanderhiU, 
which was worth eight hundred tliousand dollars. He gave a sum almost as 
large to the Vanderbilt University, at Nashville, Tennessee. In New York he 
bought and gave to the Rev. Dr. Deems, the Mercer Street Church, which is now 
well known as the Church of the Strangers. It would he hard to find out and re- 
count all the smaller charities that were aided by Commodore Vanderbilt's wealth. 
At tlw time of his death, his property was believed to be worth something between 
sixty and eighty millions. His will provided amply for his family and left the 
great bulk of his fortune to his son William H. Vanderbilt, who lived to carry out. 
many of the unfinished plans of his father, and to be a benefactor to New York 
City and the whole country. 

Cornelius Vanderbilt was born on Staten Island, May 37, 1794. He died in 
New York Citj'-, January 3, 1877. 

While Vanderbilt was building up his fortunes in the waters about New York, 
and Abbott Lawrence was reigning as a merchant prince in New England, and 
Jonas Chickering was managing his great piano works at Boston, the name of 
Harry R. W. Hill, of New Orleans, was becoming known and honored in all 
the southern and southwestern portions of the country. Like General Jackson, 
he began to get an education in a log-cabin on one of the "old fields" of the 
cotton district. But even this poor privilege lasted only for a couple of years, 
for little Harry Hill belonged to a plain family of hard working people. At first 
they lived in North Carolina, but he scarcely remembered that life, for his father 
died when he was about fiv(; years old, and Mrs. Hill, marrying again some time 
after, took him to her new home in Williams County, Tennessee. The little lad 
made this journey all the way on foot, walking beside the horse on which his 
mother rode. He carried his gun with him, too, and supplied the small party with 
food by shooting game along the lonely road. 

The new life was a rough, hard one for them all, for they had come to a fron- 
tier country next to the territory of the Chickasaw Indians. The boy had two 
years of the best schooling to be found, which was extremely poor, and all he 



532 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

learned after that he taught himself. From the '' old field school " he went into 
a store in the town of Franklin, where, on errands for his mother, he had made the 
store-keeper's acquaintance and had so attracted him by his lively wit, g-ood na- 
ture, and bright, active ways, that he was finally offered a place behind the 
counter. The merchant died after several years, and although Harrj^ was then 
onl3'^ twenty-one years old, he settled the estate so well that the fiiends and neigh- 
bors of the dead store-keeper said that young Hill ought to have a chance to work 
into his late employer's trade. So they joined together in helping him to set up a 
store of his own, and in paying his expenses to Philadelphia to buy goods. They 
were not mistaken in him. He returned Avith a good stock and for seven years 
carried on so successful a business that he made a handsome fortune in it. 

When a middle-aged man — of forty years — he married, and leaving Franklin 
for a larger place, settled at Nashville, took a partner, and with him was soon 
managing a fine commercial and steamboat trade. From there, after fiAe years, 
he went to New Orleans, united with the old merchant firm of N. & J. Dick, and 
soon extended its importance throughout all the Southwest, managing enor- 
mous sums of money and making both his firm and himself popular wherever they 
were known. When the mone\^ troubles of '37 swept over the country, N, & J. 
Dick & Company suffered heavily. They were connected with many houses that 
failed, and after a number of great losses they were forced to suspend. But Mr. 
Hill and his partners had no idea of failure ; and for seven years he toiled almost 
without rest till he had once more built up their power and won back the credit 
and character of the house. At last the labor was rewai'ded and they paid off all 
their debts of several millions of dollars in full, and had enough capital left to 
enable them to go on upon almost as large a scale as before the hard times. In 
1847, Mr. James Dick went out of the firm, three new partners were taken in, and 
it was then known as Hill, McLean & Co. But its aft'airs were not as suc- 
cessful as they had been before, and in less than five years there was almost a 
panic in the Crescent City, when it was told one morning that Hill, McLean & 
Co, had again suspended. The news spread throughout the Mississippi Valley, 
and scarcely a business man felt himself safe, while a gloom was cast over every 
commercial settlement in the South and West. If that house fell, thousands 
would go with it. Besides their own trouble the money market was very dull, 
and 'the firm were in the depths of despair. Mr. Hill met with the other partners 
and told them that, for the honor of their house, and to save the terrible calam- 
ity its fall would bring to others, he would turn in all his own means, which was 
a private fortune that he had been making and saving, above his business opera- 
tions, during more than thirty years. Pledging his own property, he assumed all 
the debts of the firm, released his partners, and undertook the work of settlement 



Harry E. W. Hill. 533 

single-handed. In the course of five months all the claims were paid off, and the 
credit of the old house was once more sound and good. Business was resumed 
under Mr. Hill's own name and management, and from that time was cari-ied on 
by himself alone. 

Meanwhile he was also a man of public spirit and active work, outside of his 
own affairs. While he would never hold a public ofKce, he did a great deal for 
the welfare and progress of Tennessee, Louisiana, and Mississippi ; and he took 
the lead in planning roads and other internal improvements, urging their value, 
influencing legislators, and giving largely toward the funds needed to cari-y them 
through. While living at Nashville, he took a great deal of interest in the Texan 
levohitionists, once sending five thousand dollars to relieve the wants of the 
Texans, and suppl}'ing them with the war materials with which they fought and 
gained the battle of San Jacinto. He was warmly in favor of having General 
Jackson for President, and he not only gave liberally toward the expenses of the 
campaign, but, after the election, put money in the President's own hands when 
he found him on his way to Washington and without plenty of means. 

Public-spirited as Mr. Hill was, and willing to give both time and money to 
the progress and welfare of the country, he would not go into politics, and the 
only prominent office of any kind that he ever took was in the Society of Free 
Masons, where he was Grand Master for many years. Schemes for the good of 
others were almost always on his mind. Private cases, churches, and public 
charities received hundreds of thousands of dollars from him ; and the last act 
of his life, and that wiiich caused his death, was taking care of some of his black 
servants that were stricken with yellow fever. His only son received his great 
fortune. Mr. Hill himself came very near inheriting a fortune beside the one he 
made, for his old partner, Mr. James Dick, called his lawyer to make out his 
will in favor of his "loved friend and valued partner." But as soon as Mr. Hill 
heard of it, he went to him, and, by using all the arguments in his power, induced 
him to leave the estate to others not so well off as himself. 

Mr. Hill's son had cause to be proud of every cent of his inheritance, for it had 
been gained by honorable business transactions, by a merchant who prayed that 
God would direct the ways of his life, whose shrewd management, courage, and 
enterprise never overstepped the line between right and wrong, and whose great 
principles of trade were honesty and systematic and faithful attention to his 
work. 

The great plantations, which were worked by over a thousand slaves, were 
under excellent arrangements of culture and improvement, while the laborers were 
well used, justly and even generously treated. Mr. Hill very often went among 
them himself, seeing that all was right and just, listening to their troubles and 



534 One Hunch^ed Famous Americans. 

sharing" their joys. Ministers were hired to be pastors and preachers to them ; 
and Sunday morning's he would g-o with them to the services, sitting- among- them 
in the open air or upon the benches of the log--cabin. He gave eacli man a plot of 
ground to Avork for himself, and bought what he raised at the market prices, 
while stores were set up on the plantations and articles sold at the cost price. 
He olTered prizes for cleanliness, g-ood conduct, and attention to work, and once a 
year jiresents of such thing-s as the negroes liked or needed were given out among- 
them all. 

Mr. Hill was born in Halifax County, North Carolina, in the j^ear 1787. He 
died in New Orleans in September, 1853, 

One of the greatest manufacturers that ever lived or worked in this country 
was Jonas Chickeriiig, the piano-maker. In his business, which g-rew very 
large while he was in it, he was the only American of real importance, while he 
also held the flrst place among all the foreign makers of the country. He deserves 
a place among- the most famous men in our history. We have had no statesman, 
lawyer, or soldier — it is said — who has shown greater qualities of mind, or has 
g-ained better success in the object for which he worked. When his talents, his 
character, and his hands were his only capital, every one who knew him knew also 
that he could be i^erfectly trusted, and all throug-h life his word was as g-ood as 
his bond. 

As the son of a humble New Hampshire farmer and blacksmith, he left home 
to learn cabinet-making- when he was seventeen. He had two leading traits then, 
his love and talent for music and the way his mind took in everything- about 
his trade and about all the tools that were used in the shop. 

One important day he was called upon to repair the only pianoforte in New 
Ipswich, where he lived. He had seen and could play on several instruments 
and knew a g-ood deal about music, but this was entirely new to him. He ex- 
amined every portion of the old, injured, and out-of-tune piano, found out what 
was the matter, made the repairs for wliicli his services liad been called, and reset 
the entire instrument. It A\as so sneeessfnlly done, tliat he resolved to be a piano- 
maker instead of a cabinet-maker, and as this was in the last year of his appren- 
ticesliip, lie soon set out for Boston with that ])urpose. He was now twenty years 
old, and while he was makini!; up his mind about how he should start in the new 
])usiness, and whether he eould possibly do so, he spent liis time working in a cab- 
inet-maker's shop and earning some very necessary money. 

At tlie end of just a year, without losing a day between, he left the cabinet- 
maker's and went into the factory of a piano-maker. Tliis step was the first in a 
new era in his life ; it was also one that led to a great addition to the manufactur- 



Jonas Chlckervng. 



535 



Ing history of the country. The height of young Chickering's desire was to make 
at least as good a i)iano as that he had seen in New Ii)swieh — a better one if possi- 
ble. At the outset he resolved to be thorough in all that he did, whatever might 
be the cost in time ; and he never called a piece of work done until it was as per- 
fect in its way as he could make it. In the shop he soon had a name for this per- 










Jonas Chickering. 

fection and faithfulness, and received from his employer the best work and the 
best pay. 

MeanM'hile he had found out that the poor, thin-toned little pianofortes of those 
days — which were so expensive and so easily put out of order that few people 
bought them — might be greatly improved ; and he resolved to do it. Their chief 
defects Avere that they would constantly get out of tune, and that they were veiy 
sensitive to the Avcather. In order to remedy these difficulties Mr. Chickering 
made a scientific study of sound and the action of the air upon the wire and other 



536 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

materials used to produce music, and made experiments in applying- the principles 
of physics to the building- of his instruments. For three ^ears he worked on as a 
journe^nnan, g-radually finding- out valuable hints for improvements. Then he 
started out on his own account. Little by little he gained his desire, and in 1830 — 
twelve years after he left his home to find work in Boston — he began the manufact- 
uring of his new pianofortes. He formed a partnership with a retired ship-mas- 
ter, Captain John Mackay, who took charge of the money matters and business 
details of the firm, while Chickering- had full charge of the manufacturing depai't- 
ment of what soon became a very prosperous business. As soon as better instru- 
ments were put in the market, the demand beg-an to g-i'ow, and the Chickering- 
pianos became more successful than the earnest young cabinet-maker had ever 
hoped for in his most enthusiastic dreams ; and while improvements on the old 
instruments had been discovered \)y mau}^ others who had taken up the business 
meanwhile and become successful manufacturers, Mr. Chickering-'s establishment 
as well as his pianos stood foremost among- them all. And his reputation kept 
on steadily increasing, for he was continually studj'ing and experimenting- to pro- 
duce finer, more perfect instruments. The wealth of the firm also g-rew, and 
they beg-an after awhile to import the foreign Avocds needed, which was a great 
advantag-e over buying- them of the dealers, both in cost and in qualitj'-. Captain 
Mackay often made the trips after these materials himself. On one of them — 
to South America — he and his vessel were probably- lost at sea, for they were 
never heard of again. 

Mr. Chickering g-rieved very deeply over this ; but he seemed better able to 
bear the loss of his partner and the ship than of his friend, for he mourned all his 
life over the good captain's fate, but kept on alone in his work for more than 
thirteen years, with ever-increasing- success. He was well known as one of the 
leading- business men in Boston. His beautiful warerooms, filled with the best 
new pianos in the country, were not only visited by buyers, but they were also 
the resort of the first musical people in the city. The g-entlemen and ladies of 
taste and talent who gathered there were from the best society, wherein Mr. 
Chickering had a hig-h place as a g-entleman and a judge of musical matters, and 
as an excellent amateur musician. His workshops employed two hundred hands, 
and sometimes fifteen hundred instruments were made in a year. After they 
were burned in 1852 he immediately set to work to replace them, and raised new 
buildings in the south part of Boston that were then said to be the larg-est struct- 
ures in the United States, excepting- the Capitol at Washington. He did not 
live to see them finished. He died suddenly in the midst of his work and care, 
just in the prime of life. The great shops were completed by his three sons, who 
have followed his footsteps and have doubled his number of workmen, and are 



Arthur and Leilns Tappafi. 6t^ 

continually increasing- the size and importance of their business and bringing* the 
instruments to still greater perfection. 

As a man Mr. Chickering bore the highest reputation, being- uprig-ht, g-ener- 
ous, and exceedingly benevolent. At the time of his death one of the Boston 
papers said : " He was president of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic As- 
sociation, and has been identified with numberless public charities. A list of his 
piivate acts of benevolence, known only to himself and those who received his 
bounty, would fill volumes. Boston has been deeply indebted to his genius, enter- 
prise, and business energy." It would have been truth to have said that the 
whole country was indebted to him for his great and successful labors in the cause 
of good music. 

Mr. Chickering- was born at New Ipswich, New Hampshire, April 5, 1798. He 
died in Boston, December 8, 1853. 

In the old Abolition days, during' the first half of our present century, one of 
the most famous firms of dry-goods dealers in New York was that of two 
brothers of New England birth, Arthur and Lewis Tappaii. 

Arthur Tappan, the elder brother, with a good common-school education, be- 
g-an to make his way in uhe world as a clerk in a Boston hardware store when he 
was fourteen years old. This was in the year 1800, and he kept at the same bus- 
iness for seven j^ears. Then, being twenty-one years old and pretty well acquainted 
with the trade, he went to Montreal in Canada, and established himself in a good 
business, which he continued until the beginning of the second war with England 
in 1812. Then he left the British possessions and came to New York City. 

With a g-ood deal of knowledg-e of business and experience among- men, he now 
set up a dry-g-oods and hardware store, and took an active interest in the g'ood 
works going on in the city. He began in a small way at first, but was not with- 
out money and credit. Gradually his affairs prospered, and in 1826 the house of 
Arthur Tappan & Co. was doing the larg-est silk business in the city, and had a 
fine granite store on Pearl Street, overlooking- Hanover Square, and overshadow- 
ing in appearance all its neighbors. The next year his brother Lewis — who was 
two years younger than himself, and a merchant and cotton manufacturer of 
Boston — came down to New York, and became an active partner in the business. 
They were very great and prosperous in their trade, and had one of the largest 
and most important establishments in town. They employed a large number of 
clerks and kept everything in most excellent, smooth-running- order. 

Mr. Arthur Tappan is said to have been the first merchant employer who 
made a point of looking after the morals and the general characters of his clerks. 

It was very much to a young- man's credit to be connected with the house 
of Arthur Tappan & Co. No better recommendation was needed. 



538 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

Mr. Tappan used to sa^^ that his success was due to what was then a new feat- 
ure of trade. '' It was due to having- but one price and selHng- for cash or short 
credit." But, as his brother Lewis tells us, it was also owing- to another cause 
which his modesty prevented him from stating-. This was his rare integ-rity. His 
customers had the fullest confidence that when they made purchases at his store 
they would not be cheated by false weights, or measures, or colors that would 
soon go out of style. Everything was what it was represented to be. 

Such high principle was not common in trade sixty 3'ears ago. It was so rare 
that a great man}^ merchants bought of Mr. Tappan when the^' would not have 
done so if they could have been as well suited and as honorably dealt with by any 
one else. This was particularly the case with the Southern tradesmen ; for Mr. 
Tappan was a g-reat foe to slavery. 

To drive out the custom of slave-holding was the main purpose of his life for 
many j^ears. 

Soon after Lewis came to New York, Arthur started the Journal of Com- 
merce, a daily newspaper, and in this, it is said, the brothers did more to start 
and push ahead the anti-slavery movement than any two hundred other men did, 
or could have done. With the aid of David Hale, Gerard Hallock, and others of 
the first great Abolitionists, they kept at work for many years. From its inno- 
cent-looking columns the sentiments of liberty and free manhood were poured 
into the minds of the merchants and leading business men in and around New 
York, till a great public sentiment was formed, people scarcely knew how. The 
Tappans used every chance to spread the feeling- against slavery — in the store, at 
home, in public meeting-s, and among- their neighbors. They were the leading- 
spirits in the famous meetings that, until the time of the negro riots — in 1834 — 
were held in what was known as the " Chatham Street Chapel," an old theater 
that stood back from the street on the west side of Chatham Street, between Pearl 
and Duane. The meetings held here were led by fervent i-eligious Abolitionists, and 
were well known and hated by all slavery people. The night that the negro riots 
broke out in New York it was mobbed and many people were killed, and from 
there the crowd went to Lewis Tappan's house — which was near by in Rose 
Street — sacking it, throwing the furniture out of the window, and burning it 
almost to the ground. Then a new Abolitionist meeting-house was founded on 
Broadway, and the zealous work still went on. 

In 1833 Arthur Tappan helped to establish the Emancipator. Then he 
formed the New York City Anti-Slavery Society, and became President of the 
American Anti-Slavery Society, founded by William Lloyd Garrison in Philadel- 
phia. He was one of the most helpful members of this Society, for he was very 
wealthy, and for some time he gave to it a thousand dollars a month. 



Arthur and Lewis Tappan. 



539 



The Southern people had made a movement ag-ainsi the Tappans early in 1830, 
and drew up one of the first *' boycotting- " pledges on record. It was agreed by 
the pro-slavery Southerners that no one should directly or indirectly have anj' 
dealings with their house. " It was," an old New York merchant tells us, 
"the beginning- of the end of the great success of the concern." From this 
time the feeling against them grew very bitter, and being- as true merchants as 
they were A1)()litionists they determined to let the people see that their goods and 
not tlieii- principles were in the market— as anotiier firm, boycotted foi- their anti- 



--^^.o-^. 



«"•..>- y*^^ 




Lewis Tappan. 

slavery zeal, stated in the newspapers. They redoubled their efforts upon their 
business, and at the time of the riots they were worth four hundred thousand dol- 
lars—a g-reat sum for those days. After that terrible event their business fell 
otf, and when the hard times of 1837 came, they broke down in complete failurcj 
all their personal property going- to theu' creditors— for both men were of the 
hig-hest integrity. Arthur had been most generous with his money. Sums of all 
sizes, from five dollars to fifty thousand, he had given to charities and good work. 
He was one of the founders of the American Tract Society, and donated a great 
deal of money to its first building. The famous Lane Theological Seminary, at 
Cincinnati, where Doctor Lyman Beecher was President, and his great son, Henry 
Ward Beecher, was educated, and whose students and teachers became some of 
the finest orators and most earnest reformers of America, was established and 



540 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

furnished with funds largely throug-h his aid ; and many other enterprises for ed- 
ucation and progress owe their being and their usefulness largely to his gener- 
osity. Every Abohtion society received help from him liberally and constantly. 
It was partly due to this Uberality — and to the Abolition zeal of the brothers — 
that they had become bankrupt. But the3' did not regret these things, and after 
the failure they went earnestly to work to begin again. 

The troubles of the firm began with the loss of their building and a large 
stock of valuable goods in a great fire that spread through Pearl Street one bitter 
cold and windy night, about two weeks before the Christmas of 1835. They 
opened another store at once, and would have recovered bravely from these losses 
before long if several other misfortunes had not come upon them. It was a dis- 
astrous time for all business firms then. Almost nobody bought and sold for 
cash. Tracts of land were bought and laid out for new towns and cities which 
were planned for a great many more people than actually settled in them. There 
was much more trade than the nation had any real need of, and throughout the 
whole country people were constantly making large purchases and paying for 
them in promises instead of hard cash. Before long they began to learn that 
cash was very scarce, and the promises were little more than so much worthless 
paper. Not long after the fire, some of the Southerners who had business with 
the great firms that dealt with the Tappans began to fail to fulfill their engage- 
ments. This, together with other causes, were fast bringing on that great wave 
of business failures for which the year '37 is famous in the history of America 
and Europe. Mr. Tappan was cool and sound in all his dealings, and in fear of 
some such calamity he had taken greater care to sell for cash than most of the 
large New York firms ; but his house had to move along, in part at least, with 
the rest, and, with them, it soon began to feel the effects of the general system of 
over-trading and long credits. Other merchants less cautious than he became 
embarrassed. Several of them appealed to him to help them, which he did, 
although all the capital and credit he had would not have been more than enough 
to keep his own business out of danger. As the months went on affairs grew 
worse. He had to raise money for himself. His name was good, and he had no 
trouble in raising a good sum. But this was soon swallowed up, and by that 
time it was impossible to get loans even on such good paper as that signed by 
Arthur Tappan & Co. There was then but one thing to do, and in May of that 
gloomy year of '37 the firm had to suspend payment, with an indebtedness of 
eleven hundred thousand dollars. 

For this they gave notes, and were allowed to go on. The longest notes were 
for eighteen months ; and, although the times were very hard and his credit was 
so much damaged that they had to buy a great deal for cash, and while they had 



Alexander' T. Steivart. 541 

to pay tens of thousands of dollars for extra interest, Arthur Tappan so success- 
fully manag-ed the affairs of his firm that within the limits of their time they paid 
the whole amount of the indebtedness with the interest, in addition to a million 
and a half dollars for the purchase of goods. 

It was a terrible strain and eighteen months of very hard work. But the mer- 
chants came out of it with their honor not only cleared of financial disgrace, but 
with even a higher place in the public estimation than they had ever held before. 

For a few years after this the firm's affairs went on very prosperously again. 
Lewis Tappan withdrew to establish a new business — the beginnings of the great 
mercantile ag-ency of R. G. Dun & Co. The house was still in the old name, and 
went on in something- of the old prosperity for a time. But in the course of a few 
years Mr. Tappan_was induced to buy some real estate, in which he lost a great 
deal of money, and ag-ain he was bankrupt. He then gave up all he had — even 
his watch was sold with his furniture. The firm went on under a new name, and 
at last paid all the debts, Mr. Tappan going- into the service of his former part- 
ners. Twelve years after the g-reat panic he bought a half-interest in the mercan- 
tile ag-ency. Then, with no great amount of work, and time for his labors for 
others, he made a comfortable income, and, in five years, retired with a modest 
little fortune ; and he and his wife spent their latter years in New Haven. 

The Tappan brothers's reputation for earnestness, goodness, and benevolence 
in both public and private life was always the same. With the success of their 
new business their liberality increased. Lewis was treasurer and president of 
the American Missionary Association, which was founded mainly through his 
efforts, and the close of his life was crowned with a beautiful and useful old age. 
He outlived his brother almost ten years and wrote his Life as his own was draw- 
ing to a close. 

Arthur Tappan was born in Northampton, Massachusetts, May 22, 1786. He 
died in New Haven, Connecticut, July 23, 18G5. 

Lewis Tappan was born in Northampton, Massachusetts, May 23, 1788. He 
died in Brooklyn, New York, June 21, 1873. 

The dry-g-oods store of Alexander T. Stewart was one of the sights of 
New York about a quarter of a century ag-o. Its proprietor was the leading 
merchant in this country, doing- a business that brought in sixty thousand dollars 
a day, while the receipts of Mr. H, B. Claflin, his closest rival, were about fifty- 
six thousand dollars a day. 

Mr. Stewart was an Irishman who came as an immigrant to this country in 
1818. He was then a lad sixteen years old, who had had some years of good educa- 
tion, with the expectation that he would enter the ministry, but he gave up that 



542 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

idea and resolved to make his fortune if lie could in the New World. The first 
few 3'ears in America were spent in teaching-, because he could not get a place in a 
store. By the time he was twenty-one he had saved quite a little money, and re- 
ceived a small legacy from his grandfather in Ireland, which he had to go back to 
receive. With a portion of this he bought some trimmings and fancy material 
for ladies' clothes, and stocked a small store on Broadway, a few blocks above the 
Astor House. 

At this time the retail stores of New York or any other city in this country 
were for the most part ver^^ small places — little shops whose proprietors were 
sometimes even called "mongers." ]\Ir. Stewart began in the same small way, 
and like all the other merchants of his day — large and small — lived in rooms above 
or back of the store. He had had no training for his business, no long* prepara- 
tion under some one else's responsibility, as had Astor and other rising merchants 
of that time ; but he resolved to make up for his disadvantages as fast as possible. 
He worked from fourteen to eighteen hours a day, being his own clerk, book- 
keeper, and salesman, and doing a strictlj^ cash business. He went to auction 
sales, and bought miscellaneous stocks ot' goods that were knoAvn as " sample 
lots," often thrown carelesslj^ together. These were very cheap, and of little 
value as he got them. But at night he and his wife — he married soon after he 
went into business — carefully sorted them, redressed them when it was necessary, 
labelled them handsomely, put them in attractive-looking boxes and placed them 
in the store, where they made a good, salable stock. Thus he set out, buying 
where he got the cheapest, sparing himself no work or trouble, and showing ex- 
cellent taste and order in all his departments. Besides this he could sell cheaper 
than dealers who bought their stock in a different ^y^x, and his terms were always 
cash on deliverv. At Stewart's store there was no "beating down,'' and ladies 
found that no advajitages Avere ever taken of them ; their children could buy 
as cheaply as themselves; and it was his ride that any clerk — for his busi- 
ness soon grew so that he had to hire help — Avas discharged for misrepresenting 
an article. He was a hard master, holding his employes to their duties bj^ severe 
rules, fining them if they were late, misdirected a bundle, overstayed their lunch- 
hour, or mistook a immber ; but he got g"ood service from them. 

He saved himself losses in stock bv never cai'rving over goods from one season 
to another, but selling tliem at the close of a season, when trade is usually very 
dull ; he drew customers by making *• closing out " sales, Avhen the goods it Avould 
not pay him to keep over were marlvcd doAvn and sold " at cost." It was a clever 
plan ; other merchants followed the example, and this is now a regular custom 
throughout the trade. 

After six years Mr. Stewart's business had grown so much that he had to move 



Alexander T. Stewart. 



513 



to a larger store, and in four years more he had to take a still larg-er place, where 
he soon occupied five stories. Tlien, Avhen he had been a merchant for fourteen 
years, he raised the great marble establishment known as the business palace — 
on the corner of Broadway and Chambers Street. It was a princely property of 




Alexander T. Stewart. 

ever-growing- value, and situated in one of the best localities in the cit}", being in 
the very heart of the greatest mercantile quarter in America. 

Mr. Stewart fully understood the wisdom of putting monej' into New York 
property. About the time that the Civil War broke out, when he was in the 
midst of his growth and success, he was worth from fourteen to twenty millions 
of dollars, and owned more real estate than any other person in New York, except- 
ing, perhaps, William B. Astor. Beside his great down-toA\Ti store, he owned the 
Metropolitan Hotel and the out-buildings belonging to it, and nearly all of Bleecker 
Street between Broadway and his residence, which was near Sullivan Street. The 
custom of merchants living over their stores was being given up now, and Mr. St«w- 



544 One H^mdred Famous Americans, 

art had moved to a fine house in what was then the most fashionable part of the 
city. At about this same time he also built up the whole block between Ninth and 
Tenth Streets, Broadway and Fourth Avenue, which he made into the largest 
and most complete retail store in the world, as by care, economy and courage, 
enterprise, wisdom and industry, and shrewd bargains he raised himself to the 
rank of the most successful merchant in the woi'ld. 

His success was due to his study of people, to employing- pleasant-mannered 
and good-looking- clerks to wait upon his customers, to arranging his store with 
good taste, and managing it with dignity and style, and to his firm determination 
to make everything serve his will for the one great purpose of constantly increas- 
ing his business. He drove hard bargains, and spared no one. Much of his pros- 
perity^ was built up at the cost — sometimes the ruin — of others. 

He invested a great deal of money in real estate outside of New York as well as 
in the city. He had, for some years before his death, a vast amount of valuable 
property and extensive buildings in New York, Saratoga, and that part of New 
Jersey which he finally built up and made into the beautiful town called Garden 
City. He was not a generous man, and his name is fast l^eing forgotten, though 
he has been dead but ten years ; 3^et there were times when he used his wealth for 
the good of others. During- the famine in Ireland he sent a ship-load of provisions 
to his distressed countrymen, and in this country he also gave to a number of 
worth3^ charities. 

Though he built a great marble palace on Fifth Avenue for his home and fur- 
nished it with all the luxuries that money can provide, he was a simple man in his 
manners and his habits ; and appeared to be a modest gentleman of leisure, while 
he carried the sole management of two of the heaviest dry-goods houses in the 
world, and was expending millions of dollars upon his beautiful little property 
of Garden City. 

Alexander T. Stewart was born near Belfast, Ireland, October 12, 1803. He 
died in New York City, April 10, 1876. 

In the publishing trade of America one of the oldest and greatest firms is that 
which was originally made up of James, John, Joseph Wesley, and 
Fletcher Harper. From this house millions of books, papers, and magazines 
have been issued, and are being issued every year. The volumes are of almost 
all kinds — school-books, from primar^'^ readers to bulky dictionaries; story-books, 
works of information, novels, travels, essays, poetry, in all grades of costliness, 
from the cheap paper-covered "libraries" to expensive editions de luxe. Then 
there are magazines and newspapers for both old folks and young ; and the name 
of the house is a guarantee that the publication is a good one. 



James Harper. 



545 



The founder of this great business was James Harper, the eldest of the four 
brothers. He began Ufe as a poor New Yorlv printer, and. he ended it, enjoying- 
the respect of all who knew him, and as a famous and wealthy publisher. When 
he was sixteen years old, it was thought that he had spent years enoug-h attend- 
ing the village public school of his Long Island home, and in helping on the farm 
of his father — who was also a builder — and so he was apprenticed to some New York 
printers. This was just before the opening of the second war between the United 
States and England, for James Harper was only about one year younger than 




James Harper. 

Cornelius Vanderbilt ; and Thurlow Weed, afterward the famous political jour- 
nalist, was his fellow-apprentice. 

There are several stories told of young Harper's ambition to do a great deal 
of work in those days ; very often he and Mr. Weed did fully a half-day's work 
at their cases before the others reached the office ; and many a time Harper would 
induce his friend to make " another token " at evenings, after they had finished 
a good day's work. He often made fourteen dollars a week, which was very 
large earnings for those days. 

When he started in business for himself it was with his younger brother John, 
who had learned type-setting in another New York printing-house, and was out 
of his time as apprentice-boy soon after James was. He too was a quick and ac- 
curate compositor, being also a very excellent proof-reader—a faculty that was 



546 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

of great service in their business. Both these young- men were very fond of eacli 
other, and thoug-h differing some in their tastes and special g"ifts, they were much 
ahke in their ambitions, and were well fitted to carry on a business together. They 
were both temperate, faithful, and industrious. By careful saving- and steady over- 
work, they had five hundred dollars saved by the time their apprenticeships were 
over, and, adding to this a few more hundred dollars loaned them by their father, 
they set up a printing-office of their own in Dover Street, New York. Their 
work was chiefly printing for publishers and booksellers, and most of it was done 
by themselves alone, each taking- the branches about which he knew the most. 
For a year or so they made books for Evert Duyckinck, a leading New York 
bookseller of that time ; and in 1818, they brought out their first book—" Locke's 
Essays on the Human Understanding- "—on their own account. They went along- 
very cautiously at first, for there are larg-e expenses and g-reat risks in bring-ing- 
out new books ; but the brothers had sound judgment, and with the added pre- 
caution of finding out how many copies each of the leading booksellers would take 
of a proposed publication before they decided to issue it, and also having- the skill 
to produce a well-made book, \A\Qy soon began to succeed. In a few years they 
were among- the leading- New York pubhshers and owners of one of the best 
printing-- houses in the city. 

In 1825, about eight years after the brothers made their start together, the 
business was enlarged, the two younger brothers — Joseph Wesley and Fletcher — 
who had been apprenticed to James and John — were taken into the business, and 
the famous firm of Harper & Brothers was formed. They opened their new house 
in numbers 80 and 83 Cliff Street ; and Avith the management well divided among- 
the four industrious, persevering-, and judicious partners, according to their special 
gifts and training, the business g-rew rapidly and steadily. 

"Which is Mr. Harper and which are the Brothers ? " some one once asked, 
"Any one is Mr. Harper," was the reply, "and the others are the Brothers." 
While each had his own special department, they all worked together, and noth- 
ing was ever done of which anj- one disapproved. 

In 1853, after the business had been under the management of the four brothers 
for almost thirty years, and had g-rown from the original rooms in Cliff Street 
till it occupied six stores running all the way through the block from Cliff to 
Pearl Streets, a fire broke out one afternoon and the establishment burned to the 
ground, with a terrible loss of almost everything but the stereotype plates, which 
had been packed away in the large street vaults. The papers which on Monday 
morning- contained an account of this fire announced on Tuesday that Harper & 
Brothers had taken the buildings at the corner of Gold and Beekman Streets, and 
that their business would g-o right on. Almost while the old building- was falling- 



James Harper. 547 

plans had been laid for a new one to take its place. After the brothers had done 
all that they could to save their property, they joined the other lookers-on in the 
street. After awhile the cool, quiet John, looking* at his watch, saw that it was 
dinner-time, and turned calmly to g-o home ; but before leaving- he remarked to 
his brothers that the^^ " had better come to his house that night and talk it over." 
They did so, and the residt was that John began his plans for the now building- 
that night, and telegrams were sent out for now presses at once. The new building- 
is the immense structure of iron, brick, and stone that now stands on Franklin 
Square and Cliff Street, covering- half an acre of g-round. It was built in less 



John Harper, 

than a year after the fire, and Mr. John Harper was the only architect employed 
on it. 

Mr. James Harper— who once said in a joke that liis portion of the business was 
entertaining- the bores — was a tall, strong- man of gay spirits, pleasing manners, 
and the most kindly of natures. He was a sincere and open Christian, and had a^ 
generous character, full of forbearance and consideration for all the people he had 
anything to do with. He was also a man of immense vitality, unfailing good hu- 
mor, and the shrewdest good sense. He not only ''entertained the bores," but 
usually extended the hospitalities of the firm to all their visitors ; and many of the 
men and women of letters whom he met in this way g-rew from business acquaint- 
ances to warm personal friends. " He has been described," as a writer said recent- 
ly, "as a teetotaler who was never sober. His fund of anecdote, quaint tales, 
and harmless jokes was unfailing, and he could set the office as well as the table 



548 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

in a roar. He had a kindly word and jest for every man, woman, and child in 
the establishment, and was endeared to all who met him by his affability and 
humor and shrewdness." He did not seek to be noted, and for the most part his 
life was devoted to the business — for he did a very large share toward raising- up 
its solid structure of success— his family, his church, and a larg-e circle of friends. 
He had no desire to get into politics, but in 1844, after urgent requests, he ac- 
cepted the nomination for Mayor of New York, and was elected by a very large 
majority. He only served one term, and never went into any soi-t of public life 
again ; but that one term is to be remembered, for he then organized the New 
York police force, which is now one of the most pei'fect in the world. 

James Harper was born at Newtown, Long Island, April 13, 1795. He died in 
New York City, March 27, 18G9. 

The sunny nature of the eldest brother was very different from that of the 
quiet, sober John, usually called the '* Colonel." He had the same good sense, 
with remarkable will-power and judgment; he was bold, resolute, quick to decide, 
never betraying hesitation, rapid in planning, daring in execution. His special 
department in the firm was the management of its money matters, although he 
always kept a printer's intei'est in the way the books were printed, and was a 
severe critic in all such matters. It has been said that as long as he kept any 
care in the business he critically examined every book the fii-m jDut out — and they 
had issued fully two thousand, including the periodicals, as early as 1854. Not a 
single error in type of any kind escaped his well-trained eye, and he was espe- 
cially careful about the title-page. He would revise and revise a dozen times till it 
suited his critical taste, and not until it did suit him would he allow it to go to 
press. As manager of the finances a great deal of the prosperity and integrity 
of the firm was due to his calm, clear judgment and prompt, effective business 
methods. 

John Harper was born at Newtown, Long Island, January 22, 1797. He died 
in New York City, April 24, 1875. 

The head of the literary department was the third brother, Joseph Wesley, 
who was taken into the firm in 1825. It has been said that he was above all 
things else a man of judicial mind, subtle and keen in his insight, yet of broad, 
temperate, and sagacious judgment. For almost half a century- he was at the 
head of the department whei'e all the literary correspondence Avas attended to, ex- 
amined all the manuscripts, of which — like all publishers— he found a great manj^ 
more to reject than accept, but this he did so kindly that he never hurt any 
one's feelings. 

" Less sturdy in frame, and less robust in health, he was gentle and studious; 
well read in current literature, and a good judge of what was valuable " — what it 



Joseph Wesley Harper. 



549 



was worth their while to expend time, labor, and money on to put into book-form. 
Mr. Georg-e Ripley, the celebrated Tribune critic, and for a long- time one of the 
Harpers' readers and Mr. Wesley's intimate friend, said he never heard a pas- 
sionate or inconsiderate word from his lips ; his manners were the " very essence 
of kindness," he said, and his conversation was always pleasant and instructive, 
enlivened with humor, and like the candid and affectionate man that he was. Mr. 
Curtis, the editor of the Weekly, said that there was a singular sagacity and jus- 
tice in all that he said. ''In every part of the building there was always the 
same friendly, serene presence which had its voice of authority upon occasion, but 




Joseph Wesley Harper. 

which seemed to pervade all like sunshine. He was so simply courteous and kind 
that he controlled without commanding." 

Mr. Joseph Wesley Harper was born at Newtown, Long Island, December 25, 
1801. He died in New York City, February 14, 1870. 

Mr. Fletcher Harper's part, James said, was to " make the thing go " — that 
is, he had the business management. " He was always on the jump, displaying" 
immense energy and great powers of managing- men. He abhorred ruts and 
routine, and wanted quick, energetic men around him." Though James started 
the Monthly, it was Fletcher, the man of tact, judgment, and push, who took the 
management of it and made it a success. It was he also who originated the 
Weekly, and, with the aid of Mr. Curtis as editor, made it a power in politics 



550 



One Hundred Famous Americans. 



without ever joining it to an}' party. The Bazar, too, was under Mr. Fletcher'^ 
wise direction. Some one has said that in all business relations he was a g-reat ad- 
ministrator, and Avould have been distinguished in any position requiring energy, 
sagacity, quick judgment and mastery of men. He had that instinct of a leader 
which made him choose his instruments wdsely and — to use Mr. Curtis's words 
— surround himself with minute-men. 

He was a man of remarkable power and strength of nature — having a " noble 
manliness made sweet and mild by the freshest of affections and the most tender 
sympathy." He was great in evei-y thing, and in nothing more so than in his 




Fletcher Haeper. 



modesty. Resolutely, but without display, he pushed his way. " He never held 
an office or wished for one. He was not seen at public meetings on great occa- 
sions ; and no man of equal mark in the city more instinctively avoided every kind 
of notoriet3\ His home, thronged with affectionate kindred, was happy beyond 
the common lot; and at his hospitable table sat friends from far and near, to 
whom his sweet and sunnj^ w^elcome w^as a benediction like summer air." His 
bi'othei's all went before him — " the cheer}'- James, the indomitable John, the 
gracious Wesley ; " and while he lived to feel the sorrow of seeing the original 
brotherliood dissolved, he also had the pleasure of seeing their sons, a strong, ener- 
getic, high-minded generation, rise to take their places and continue the great 



Daniel Appleton. 551 

business with the same *' unbroken harmony, the settled trust, and the perfect 
confidence in each other " that was the ke3^stone of its success. 

Fletcher Harper was born at Newtown, Long Island, in 1805. He died in 
New York City, May 39, 18:7. 

The name of Daniel Appleton, the founder of the great New York publish- 
ing'-house of D. Appleton & Co., is one of the most famous in the book trade of 
the United States. Mr. Appleton was a New England man, who began his busi- 
ness career in his native town of Haverhill, Massachusetts, and did not come to 




Daniel Appleton. 

New York until several .years after, having lived in Boston meanwhile and estab- 
lished himself in quite a successful dr^-goods business. He moved this to New 
York and opened a store in Exchange Place, when that great brokers' quarter of 
to-day was the most fashionable shopping district in town. He was a very keen, 
enterprising man, and saw at once that a good book-store in that neighborhood 
would pay. So he resolved to take in a little more than a dry-goods trade ; and, 
forming a partnership with his brother-in-law, Jonathan Leavitt — a bookbinder 
of Andover, Massachusetts — he made his first venture in the enterprise of mak- 
ing, importing, and seUing books. He was a man of quick judgment and real 



552 One Hundred Famous Americans. 

mercantile spirit, and the business soon became so important that the dry-g-oods 
department was given up, and the whole of his and his partner's energies were 
devoted to their new department. After five years the firm was dissolved, and 
each of the brothers-in-law went on by himself. 

Mr. Appleton's first books were small religious works, but he soon launched 
out into genei'al literature and built up an immense trade both in making and im- 
porting. After a time he took his son, William H. Appleton, into partnership, 
and ten years later — in 1848 — he retired, with the request that the lirm should bear 
his name as long as it lasted. To this da^^ all the checks and notes of the house 
are signed with the name of Daniel Appleton written in full. On old Mr. Apple- 
ton's retiring Mr. William H. Appleton took his place and several of his younger 
sons became members of the firm ; since then other members of the famil3^ have 
also been taken in, and the business has g'rown to an enormous extent. A trade 
journal says : The success of the firm was so great during the first quarter of a 
century of its life as a publishing-house, that it was enabled to begin the second 
quarter by a monumental enterprise, the ''New Amei'ican Cyclopedia," which 
was edited by George Ripley, the critic and literary editor of the Tribune, and 
Cliarles A. Dana, the editor of the Sun. It was a well-made work and was sure 
to be valuable, but it took a great amount of courage for the publishers to put it 
out. After they had it ready for that j^ear — 1857 — there was a panic, and it re- 
quired not only capital but courage to undei'take so extensive an enterprise at a 
time when the business outlook was so bad. The j-ear 1863, when the last volume 
was issued, was in the very crisis of the Civil War — the year of the capture of 
Vicksburg. Yet through all these financial and political disturbances, the firm 
continued to issue their books, volume after volume. The cost of the first edition 
must have been over half a million of dollars, and the sales must be counted by 
tens of thousands. Nothing that the care of the editors or the money of the pub- 
lisliers could do was wanting to make the " New American Cyclopedia " a success ; 
and they were rewarded for their faithfulness in the work and their enterprise in 
producing it by a prompt sale and ready acceptance of it by the best judges as one 
of the most valuable standard works ever produced in this country. A dozen 
years later it was re-issued in a carefully revised edition, with maps and illustra- 
tions that cost nearly $100,000. This is supplemented by annual volumes of 800 
pages, each giving a history of the world for one year. In 1886 the firm under- 
took the publication of an extensive and carefully- edited " Cyclopi\?dia of Ameri- 
can Biography," in six roj'al octavo volumes, which was completed in 1889. In 
1900, an Appendix was published as volume seven. 

The house is still in the full tide of its importance, and does an immense busi- 
ness in America and in its foreign branches. It keeps to much the same lines — 



William H. Appleton. 



553 



though going more largely into scientific works — as those in which the founder 
left it five years before his death. "The Popular Science Monthly," which the 
firm published for twenty-eight years, and sold in 1900, still stands at the head of 
periodicals of its class. From the great establishment, now on Fifth Avenue, 
come books of general literature and works on education. The famous "Webster 
Speller " had an enormous sale, greater probabl}'' than any other American book 
ever published. A million copies were put out regularly every year. From this 




William H. Appleton. 



house also come many books of all kinds for young folks, volumes of travel and 
description — notably "Picturesque America," "Picturesque Europe," "Pic- 
turesque Palestine "^ — and man}^ learned works of foreign as well as American 
authors, and a vast amount of translations, novels, poems, and general reading. 
Daniel Appleton was born at Haverhill, Massachusetts, December 10, 1785. 
He died in New York City, March 27, 1849. 



THE HALL OF FAME.* 



By chancellor HENRY MITCHELL MacCRACKEN. 

(Of New York University.) 

n^HE HALL OF FAME, like many another fruit of civilization, owes its incep- 
-•- tion in large part to hard facts of physical geography. After the three build- 
ings which are to form the west side of the quadrangle of the New York University 
College of Arts and Science at University Heiglits had been planned, it was decided, 
in order to enlarge the quadrangle, to push them as near as possible to the avenue 
above the Harlem River. But since the campus level is 170 feet above high tide, 
and from 40 to 60 feet above the avenue, it was seen at once that the basement 
stories would stand out towards the avenue bare and unsightly. In order to con- 
ceal their walls, a terrace was suggested by the architect, to be bounded at its 
outer edge by a parapet or colonade; and, since the terrace would be entirely above 
ground, it would provide large space underneath. But to what educational use 
could such a structure by adapted? What reason could be given therefor besides 
the esthetic effect ? The added beauty might be sufficient to justify, to an archi- 
tect, the great cost; but it could not do this to the officers of a. university that Avas 
comparatively poor in resources. While the topographical necessity, therefore, 
compelled the architect to invent the terrace with its parapet or colonnade, the uni- 
versity's necessity compelled the discovery of an educational use for the architect's 
structure. This use was found when the writer, as chairman of the Building 
Committee, conceived that the space beneath the terrace, together with the colon- 
nade above, might easily be adapted to constitute together " The Hall of Fame for 
Great Americans." 

Like most persons who have visited Germany, the chairman was acquainted 
with the "Ruhmes Halle," built near Munich by the King of Bavaria. Like all 
Americans, he admired the use made of Westminster Abbey, and of the Pantheon 

* Reprinted by permission from "The American Monthly Review of Reviews," November, 1900. 



The Hall of Fame. 555 

in Paris. But the American claims liberty to adopt new and broad rules to govern 
him, even when following on the track of his Old-World ancestors. Hence it was 
agreed that admission to this Hall of Fame should be controlled by a national 
body of electors, who might, as nearly as possible, represent the wisdom of the 
American people. This idea was made the first article of the " Constitution of the 
Hall of Fame." 

The second feature was the recognition of the multiformity of human great- 
ness. The thoughtful visitor is offended when he sees, in the Hall of Statuary in 
Washington, to which each State is invited to contribute two statues of eminent 
citizens, that every man thus far honored, with a single eccentric exception, has 
been a holder of public office, either military or civil. For the Hall of Fame it 
was provided, therefore, that many classes of citizens, not less than fifteen, should 
be considered, and that a majority of these classes should have representatives 
among the first fifty names to be chosen. This precedent once established will, it 
is hoped, prevent the electors in all time to come from forgetting that greatness 
may be attained in many walks of life. 

The third chief feature was the restriction of the hall to native-born Americans. 
Since this has been more severely criticised than any of the other rules adopted, it 
is expedient to present the arguments that justify this restriction. This may be 
done most easily by recounting the difficulties in which the 100 electors would 
have been involved had they been obliged to take into consideration all the eminent 
foreign-born Americans. It is true that prominent Harvard professors suggested 
that only those foreign born should be considered who were citizens at the time of 
the adoption of the Constitution. Their great care was to secure the admission of 
Alexander Hamilton. But how could Hamilton be considered, and not his con- 
temporaries, John Witherspoon and Albert Gallatin ; nor the foreign-born gen- 
erals of the Revolution, and John Paul Jones. Why discriminate in favor of po- 
litical characters against such builders of the nation as Francis Makemie or Francis 
Asbury? The former was the "St. Francis" of Presbyterianism, who for con- 
cience' sake, in the year 1707, suffered in a prison cell in New York City, and who 
is counted the American founder of a great denomination ; the latter was the " St. 
Francis" of Methodism, who in forty-five years ordained 4,000 preachers, while 
he traveled over 250,000 miles; and that before the time of railways. Or why 
ignore the Pilgrim Fathers? The 100 electors found last summer that it involved 
serious labor to choose among the native-born. What if they had been obliged to 
weigh the claims of John Winthrop and Roger Williams against those of Daniel 
Boone and Marcus Whitman? Suppose that they had, in doing so, preferred 
foreign-born to native Americans, would it not have been in large part out of that 



556 The Hall of Fame. 

hospitality to strangers of which we are proud ? Or, if they had rejected the 
foreign-honi, would not the electors have been suspected of " Know-Nothing " 
prejudice, with whicli not a few Americans have been deeply affected? The 
present rule shuns all these comparisons which might, to use the language of 
Shakespeare, have proven "odorous." 

The giver of the Hall of Fame prizes no feature of its plan more than this rule, 
which is designed to make the structure an especial reminder to Americans of how 
man}-, and also of how few, our country has raised up, in its 250 years of exist- 
ence, as eminent leaders or benefactors of mankind. This hall, together with the 
processes which it sets in motion, will necessitate a frequent "taking of stock," or 
national inventory. This inventory can be secured with greater fairness and com- 
pleteness if the 100 electors are permitted to choose among persons of common 
birth, who owe nothing (unless by their own choice) to foreign training; who, in 
a word are from first to last Americans. The rumor that the rule which includes 
the foreign-born would exclude also those who might die abroad was a humorous 
invention of the dull season last summer. It was never even thought of in con- 
nection with the agreement made between the giver of the hall and the university 
corporation. 

The fourth chief feature of the plan of inscription is periodicit}^. Every five 
years throughout the twentieth century five additional names will be inscribed, 
provided the electors under the rules can agree by a majority upon so many. 
There is no excessive veneration, on the part of us Americans, for our fore- 
fathers. So far as may be, this hall asks the people to consider repeatedly 
whom among the fathers they would be delighted to honor. It employs the prin- 
ciple of repetition to promote reverence for true worth. 

To the above four chief features may be added, as the fifth important one, the 
reposing of the responsibility of supervision in the New York University Senate. 
This bod}^ appoints the 100 electors throughout the countr}', canvasses their reports, 
and has the right of veto upon their choice. This veto simply returns the name 
for farther consideration. It does not prevent the electors presenting it again at 
the next time of election. Observation shows that universities, beyond any other 
foundations, maintain a uniform and enduring existence. The deans of schools 
and senior professors who constitute a university senate are generally chosen with 
care, and have been tested by years of experience. They are as likel}' as any 
human organization to be careful and consistent in such work as they are called 
upon to perform. The New York University Senate is peculiarl}- liberal in that 
it includes in its membership the presidents of si,x great theological schools situated 
in or near the metropolis. But let it be observed that after the University Senate 



The Hall of Fame. 557 

has appointed the electors, who must under the rule be distributed throughout the 
nation, its office becomes merely negative or clerical. It cannot add a name to 
those inscribed. It cannot change any of the articles of the contract which gov- 
erns the hall for all time. These can be changed only by the common action of 
the university and the giver, during the lifetime of the latter. 

This constitution being provided for the governing of the Hall of Fame, the 
senate proceeded, on April 3 last, to secure 100 electors, and it adopted the follow- 
ing action regarding them : 

First. They are apportioned to the following four classes of citizens, in as 
nearly equal numbers as possible : (A) Universit}' or college presidents and edu- 
cators. (B) Professors of history and scientists. (C) Publicists, editors, and 
authors. (D) Judges of the Supreme Court, State or National. 

Second. Each of the forty-five States is included in the appointments. When 
in any State no one from the first three classes is named, the Chief Justice of the 
State is invited to act. 

Third. Only citizens born in America are invited to act as judges. No one 
connected with New York University is invited. 

The senate was gratified to find that its invitation to every university and col- 
lege president was accepted, and that to secure the full quota in the other classes 
it was obliged to exercise a second choice in only a very few cases. One of these 
was the case of ex-President Benjamin Harrison, who gave as his sole reason 
that he would feel bound, if he served, to give much study to the nominations be- 
fore making a decision, and that his engagements did not allow him time for the 
work before the date set for the report. 

Next the senate proceeded to place nominations before the electors, adopting on 
June 4, 1900, the three following rules: 

First. The University Senate seconds the nomination of each of the 100 names 
received that rank first in the number of persons who have put them in nomina- 
tion. 

Second. The individual members of the senate will each second additional 
names selected by him from the names (more than 1,000) placed in nomination. 

Third. The senate invites each of the 100 judges, upon receiving the roll of 
nominatiuns contemplated in the two foregoing resolutions, to transmit to us any 
other name which lie considers should be submitted to the judges, which name 
will at once be seconded by the senate and forwarded to the judges as an additional 
nomination. 



The result was that 234 names were sent out to the electors. Eiglit hundred 
additional names that were presented to the senate were withheld by them under 
the rules. Several of the electors failed, because of their change of residence dur- 



558 The Hall of Fame. 

ing the summer, to receive the invitation to added nominations. Only 20 electors 
availed themselves of this right, adding some 30 or 40 names. Without doubt, 
other names might very appropriately have been added. 

Of the 100 electors, 97 made reports within the time allowed, which were can- 
vassed by the officers of the senate, on October 10, 11, and 12. The senate acted 
upon the report of its officers by adopting the following resolution : 

First. The 29 names that have each received the approval of 51 or more 
electors shall be inscribed in the Hall of Fame. 

Second. The cordial thanks of the Senate of New York University are returned 
to each of the electors for this service rendered to the public. While it has de- 
manded no little thought and acceptance of responsibility on their part, it must re- 
ceive abundant reward in the knowledge of important aid given thereby to the 
cause of education, particularly among the youth of America. 

Third. The official book of the Hall of Fame, the publication of which is au- 
thorized by the senate, shall be sent to each of the 100 electors as a memento of 
this service. 

Fourth. The senate will take action in the year 1902, under the rules of the 
Hall of Fame, tow^ard filling at that time the vacant panels belonging to the pres- 
ent year, being 21 in number. 

Fifth. The senate invites each member of the present Board of Electors to 
serve as an elector in 1902. Should any one of the present board have laid down 
his educational or public office, his successor may, by preference, be invited to 
serve in 1902. 

Sixth. Each nomination of the present year to the Hall of Fame that has re- 
ceived the approval of ten or more electors, yet has failed to receive a majority, 
will be considered a nomination for the year 1902. To these shall be added any 
name nominated in writing by five of the Board of Electors. Also other names 
may be nominated by the New York University Senate in such wa}' as it may 
find expedient. Any nomination by any citizen of the United States that shall be 
addressed to the New York University Senate shall be received and considered by 
that body. 

The 29 names are as follows, in the order of preference shown them by the 97 
electors : 

George Washington 97 Robert Fulton 85 

Abraham Lincoln 96 Washington Irving 83 

Daniel Webster 96 Jonathan Edwards 81 

Benjamin Franklin 94 Samuel F. B. Morse 80 

Ulysses S. Grant 92 David Glasgow Farragut 79 

John Marshall 91 Henry Clay 74 

Thomas Jefferson 90 Nathaniel Ha^vthorne 73 

Ealph Waldo Emerson 87 George Peabody 72 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow^ 85 Robert E. Lee 69 



The Hall of Fame. 569 

Peter Cooper 69 Joseph Story 64 

Eli Whitney 67 John Adams 61 

John James Audubon 67 William Ellery Channing 58 

Horace Mann 67 Gilbert Stuart 52 

Henry Ward Beecher 66 Asa Gray 51 

James Kent 65 

The senate farther took note of the many requests that foreign-born Ameri- 
cans should be considered, by adopting a memorial to the University Corporation, 
as follows : 

The New York University Senate, for a number of reasons, cordially approves 
the strict limitation of the Hall of Fame to native-born Americans. At the same 
time it would welcome a similar memorial to foreign-born Americans as follows: 

A new edifice to be joined to the north porch of the present hall, with harmoni- 
ous architecture, to contain one-fifth of the space of the present hall ; that is, not 
over thirty panels, ten to be devoted, the first year, to the commemoration of 
ten foreign-born Americans who have been dead for at least ten years — an addi- 
tional panel to be devoted to one name every five years throughout the twentieth 
century. We believe that less than one-fifth of the cost of the edifice now being 
builded would provide this new hall; and that, neither in conspicuity nor in the 
landscape which it would command, would it in any way fall behind the present one. 

It is proper now that we turn from the ideal to the material. What visible 
and tangible memorial in the Hall of Fame will be given to each name that has 
been chosen ? A very simple memento, we answer, has been promised by the 
university. As soon as the colonnade is completed, we shall select, for each of 
the 29 names, a panel of stone in the parapets at the side. In this the name will 
be carved at full length, together with the date of birth and of death. 

The panels will be distributed among the classes into which the names are 
divided. For example, next the Hall of Languages is the "Authors' Corner," 
with its pavilion. This will receive the names of Emerson, Longfellow, Irving, 
and Hawthorne. Next that is the "Teachers' Corner" and pavilion. To this 
will be assigned the Preachers' also — Edwards, Beecher, Channing, and Horace 
Mann. One-quarter of the way round the curve are the Scientists', together with 
the Inventors'. Here will be Audubon and Gray, Fulton, Morse, and Whitney. 
At the north end, in like manner, is the "Statesmen's Corner." Here are Wash- 
ington, Lincoln, Webster, Franklin, Jefferson, Clay, and John Adams. Next is 
the "Jurists' Corner," with Marshall, Kent, and Stor3^ The soldiers' quarters 
are south of these, with Grant, Farragut, and Lee. In the centre of the curved 
colonnade is a seventh division, to include all others. This will be marked by the 
Latin word "S'ephmz." Here will be the philanthropists, George Peabody and 
Peter Cooper, and the painter, Gilbert Stuart. The name of each of the seven 



560 The Hall of Fame. 

divisions is recorded in brass letters, in a diamond of Tennessee marble, set in the 
centre of the pavement. 

Further, the university provides admirable positions in the colonnade for 
bronze statues or busts of those whose names are chosen. 

On the ground-floor of the hall is a noble provision of a corridor of 200 feet in 
length, with five large rooms, whose ultimate and exclusive use is to be the preser- 
vation of mementos of those whose names are inscribed above. These mementos 
will doubtless consist of portraits of the persons, with marble busts or tablets, 
autographs, and the thousand-and-one memorials which vividlj^ call to mind the 
departed great. A quaint vase has already been contributed to the museum, 
which commemorates, by engraved figures, the work in science performed by 
Franklin, Fulton, and Morse. Probably the most important feature of the mu- 
seum in future years will be the mural paintings. The Society of Mural Painters 
has carefully examined these rooms, and has presented a memorial to the univer- 
sity in which they record their conclusions. This is signed by the members of the 
Committee on civic buildings, — Joseph Lauber, chairman; John La Farge, pre- 
sident of the societ}', ea.'-q^cz'o member; Kenyon Cox, secretary; George W. May- 
nard, Edwin H. Blashfield, and C. Y. Turner. The paper, in part, is as follows: 

The committee on civic buildings of the National Society of Mural Painters, 
having carefully considered the possibilities of tlio embellishment of the museum 
of the Hall of Fame by appropriate mural painting, hereby makes the following 
suggestions : 

That it is eminently fitting that, in a commemoration of national greatness 
such as the Hall of Fame, the three great arts, — Architecture, Sculpture, and 
Mural Painting, — should collaborate, not only to perpetuate the memorj^ of the 
great men of the nation for all time, but also to serve as an example of monu- 
mental art in America of to-day. . . . 

In looking over the wall-spaces of the museum of the Hall of Fame, we find 
that there is an excellent opportunity for the exercise of the mural art, the archi- 
tect of the structure having provided a frieze-line of over six feet in height, ex- 
tending throughout the entire edifice and interrupted by partitions and windows. 
We find the divisions of space as they are, excellent, as they will serve to separate 
the depiction of one subject from another. Wo would suggest that, if the au- 
thorities of the New York University decide on the mural embellishment of this 
structure, the central gallery, which has the largest uninterrupted frieze-line, be 
taken up first, and a painting be j^laced here, chiefly allegorical, typifying 
American progress, the Ideals of the nation, and its place in the history of 
civilization. Right and left of this, on the side-walls and in the adjoining gal- 
leries, the work on the walls may have a more direct bearing on the men and their 
achievements, according to the space allotted to the various representatives of the 
jiation's greatness in the museum. . . . 



The Hall of Fame. 561 

Then, as we understand, it is desired to set apart spaces in this museum for 
relics and memorials of these men ; the rooms should have a direct bearing on the 
achievements of the men memorialized, whether the treatment is allegorical, his- 
torical, or individual. 

Even in allegor}^ this can be beautifully done ; there need be no vagueness in 
the significance of the artist's work. 

Unfortunately, the university being compelled to use all its efforts on behalf of 
its ordinary educational work, can lend no energy to the securing of means for the 
decoration of the Hall of Fame, beyond statements like the present. We offer the 
abundant space provided by the generosity of the giver of the edifice. When the 
hall, including only the colonnade and the museum, shall have been completed by 
the close of winter, it will have cost a little more than $250,000. It is, by itself, a 
most delightful memorial to great Americans — not only in its architecture and the 
names inscribed, but also in the surpassing landscape which it connnands through- 
out its 500 feet of length. The historic heights of Fort Washington, where one 
of the fiercest Revolutionary battles was fought ; the Hudson and the Palisades, 
the Harlem and the Speedway — are in view. Close by are noble trees belonging 
to the park recently established by the cit}'. Through this sloping University 
Park will be a popular approach to the hall from the west. From the east and the 
future rapid-transit road, the visitor will come to the hall through the college 
campus and the "Mall." The Hall of Fame must be visited to be known, for it 
can be represented by no photograph. In order merely to read the eight connected 
inscriptions upon the eight pediments, the sightseer must go around the exterior 
of the entire structure, front and rear, a full quarter-mile. He will find the object 
and the reason of the edifice in the carved words, which chance to be preciselj^ the 
same in number as the great names that the Hall of Fame will commend to the 
people of the Twentieth Century. The 29 words are as follows: 



The Hall of Fame 



They Served Mankind 



For Great Americans 



In Noble Character 



By Wealth of Thought 



In World-wide Good 



Or Else by Mighty Deed 



They Live Forevermore 



INDEX. 



Abolition, 44, 55, 107, 113, 114, 133, 253, 266, 310, 

403, 416, 418, 538. 
Acadeiuv of Design, National, 490, 496, 499. 
Actors, 470. 

Bootli, E., 477. 

" J. B.,477. 
Cusiiman, C, 474. 
Fori-est, E., 470. 
Jefferson, J., 481. 
Adams, J., 43, 43, 57, 58, 61, 62, 68, 70, 72, 80, 
85, 130, 131, 517. 
" J. Q., 60, 76, 81, 93, 96, 117, 159, 333, 

388, 493, 498. 
" S., 57, 61, 64, 360, 513. 
"Advertiser," Boston, 438. 
Agassiz, J. L. R., 369, 371. 
Agnew, C. R., 343. 
"Alabama" Claims, 134, 137. 
Alaska, 116. 
"Albany Regency," 115. 
Alien and Sedition Laws, 60, 80. 
Allan, J., 414, 415. 
Allen, T. F., 343. 
AUston, W., 493, 494, 501. 
American Seamen, Impressment of, 84. 
" Seamen's Friend Society, 306. 
System, 81, 333. 
Ames, F., 74, 517. 
Anajsthetics, 331. 
Antarctic Explorations, 235. 
Anti-Federalists, 57. 

" Slavery. See Abolition 9,nd Slavery. 
Anthony, S. B., 367. 
Appomattox, 183. 
Appleton, D., 551. 

D. & Co., 456, 551. 
N., 536. 
W. H., 553. 
Arctic Explorations, 336, 378, 379, 
Arnold, B., 145. 
Artists, 467. 

AUston, W., 493. 






Artists : 

Anderson, A., 503. 

Beard, W. H., 503. 

Booth, E., 477. 
" J. B., 477. 

Brown, H. K., 513. 

Cole, T., 503. 

Copley, J. S., 483. 

Crawford, T., 508. 

Cushman, C, 474. 

Darlcy, F. O. C, 503. 

Davis, 503. 

Durand, A. B., 496. 

Forrest, E., 470. 

Freeman, Mrs., 511 

Fulton, R., 4. 

Giffonl, R. S., 503. 
S. R., 503. 

Greenough, H., 505. 

Hosmer, H., 511, 

Hunt, W. M., 500. 

Jefferson, J., 481, 

Johnson, E., 503. 

Kensett, J. F., 503. 

Lentz, E., 502. 

Linton, W., 503. 

Morse, S. F. B., 16. 

Mason, L., 467. 

Nast, T., 502. 

Powers, H., 506. 

Reinhart, C. S., 503. 

Stebbins, E., 511. 

Story, W. W. , 510. 

Stuart, G., 491. 

Sully, T., 493. 

Trumbull, J., 489. 

Vanderlyn, J., 494. 

Ward, J. Q. A., 512. 

West, B., 485. 

Whitney, Miss, 511. 

Yuengling, 503. 
Assembly, U. S. Constitutional, 44, 49, 5i 



564 



Index. 



Assumption of State Debts, 56. 
Astor, J. J., 518, 531. 
" W. B., 533, 543. 
Astoria, 536. 
Astor Library, 531, 533. 
Audubon, J. J., 353, 356, 439. 

Bancroft, G., 384, 387, 388, 399. 
Bank of N. A., 48, 56. 
" of U. S., 1st, 56, 373. 

3d, 57, 81, 93, 93, 159, 160, 373. 
Banks, N. P., 193, 194. 
Baptists, 300. 

Bai-bary States, 166, 169, 170, 173. 
Bard, S., 318, 319. 
Barthalow, R., 343. 
Bartram, W., 349. 
Bates, J., 381. 
Battles : 

Antietam, 135, 178, 194. 

Bladensburg-, 133. 

"Bonne Homme Richard" and "Serapis," 
154. 

Brandywine, 118, 143, 148. 

Bull Run, 1st, 175, 186, 193, 195, 456. 
3d, 178, 194. 

Bunker Hill, 41, 43, 163, 490. 

Camden, 150. 

Cedar Mountain, 194. 

Cerro Gordo, 164. 

Clianceilorsville, 191, 194. 

Chapultepec, 164, 180, 189. 

Chattanooga, 186. 

Chippewa, 163. 

Churubusco, 164. 

Concord, 68, 398. 

Corinth, 181. 

"Drake" and "Ranger," 153. 

Eutaw Springs, 150. 

Fredei'icksburg, 191. 

Gaines's Mills," 176, 194. 

Germantown, 118, 143, 148. 

Gettysburg, 193. 

Goldsboro', 188, 196. 

Iron Hill, 118. 

luka, 183. 

Lake Erie, 173. 

Lexington, 43, 68, 143, 146, 316, 346, 483, 
514. 

Long Island, 54, 143, 14r. 

Lookout Mountain, 183. 

Lundy's Lane, 163. 

Malvern Hill, 176, 194. 

Median icsville, 176. 

Missionary Ridge, 183. 

Molino del Rey, 164, 180. 

Monmouth, 54, 118, 144, 148. 



Battles : 

New Orleans, 158, 19a 

Niagara, 163. 

Palo Alto, 180. 

Powles's Hook, 119. 

Princeton, 54, 143. 

Quebec, 44. 

Queenstown, 163. 

San Jacinto, 533. 

San Juan d'Ulloa, 164 

Saratoga, 143, 489. 

Seven Days', 176. 

Shiloh, 186. 

South Mountain, 178. 

Springfield, 149. 

Stillwater, 143. 

Stonv Point, 119, 144. 

Trenton, 54, 148. 

Vera Cruz, 164, 174. 

Warrenton, 179. 

Wliite Plains, 54, 148. 

Wilderness, 183. 

Williamsburg, 176. 
Beard, W. H., 503. 
Beauregard, P. T. S., 175, 193. 
Beck, J. B., 339. 

" T. R., 338, 339, 363. 
Beecher, Henry Ward, 311, 540. 

Lyman, 309, 400, 540. 
Bennett, J. G., Sr., 443. 

J. G., Jr., 350, 448. 
Bigelow, E. B., 37 
Blackwell, A. Brown, 268. 
E., 343. 

L. Stone, 365, 368. 
Blaine, J. G., 388. 
Blanchard, T., 14. 
Board of Trade, Piiiladelphia, 534. 
Bonaparte, C. L., 353, 354. 
Boone, D., 215. 
Boonesborovigh, 216, 217. 
Book Sales, 98. 
Booth, E., 477. 
" .LB., 477. 
" W., 108. 
Boston Massacre, 61, 64. 

" Tea Party, 58, 61. 
Bovlston, Z., 391, 315. 
Braddock, Gen. E., 140, 141, 487. 
Bradford, W., 306. 
Breckinridire, J. C, 107. 
Bridge, H."; 397. 
Brook Farm, 399, 456, 463, 
Brooks, P. S., 134. 
Brown, Gen., 163. 
H. K., 513. 
" J., 361, 447. 



Index. 



565 



Bryant, W. C, 257, 404, 407, 408, 416. 
Buchanan, J., 103, 108, 116, 134, 235. 
Buddington, S. O.. 249. 
Burnside, A. E., 179. 182. 
BuiT, A., 57, 7i, 123, 162. 

" Rev. A., 294. 
Burritt, E., 374. 
Business Men, 513. 
Appleton, D., 551. 

W. H., 553. 
Astor, J. J., 518. 
Carey, H. C, 97. 

M , 98. 
Chickering-, J., 534. 
Claflin, H. B., 541. 
Cooper, P., 279. 
Cope, T. P., 523. 
Derby, E. H., 513. 
Dick, N. & J., 532. 
Douglass, B. & Co., 540. 
Dun & Co., 541. 
Duyckinck, E , 546. 
Girard, S., 270. 
Goodyear, A., & Sons, 24. 

" C 23 

Grinnell, H.,''236, 2-38, 246, 277. 
Hancock, J., 61. 
Harper & Bros. , 544. 
Fletcher, 550. 
" James, 545. 
John, 547. 
J. W., 549. 
Hill, H. R. W., 531. 

" McLean & Co., 532. 
Lawrence, A. & A., 525. 
Abbott, 525. 
Amos, 528. 
Leavitt, J., 551. 
Morris, R., 46. 
Murray, L., 344. 
R., 343. 
Peabody, G., 274. 
Stewart, A. T., 541. 
Tappan, A. & L., 537. 
Vanderbilt, Cornelius, 528. 
Willing & Morris, 47. 

Cable, Atlantic, 20, 21. 

Cabot, S., 236. 

Calhoun, J. C, 80, 82, 84, 86, 88, 89, 90, 91, 93, 

101, 106, 132, 159, 160, 508, 526. 
Caloric Power, 11, 12. 
California, 94, 116, 231, 233, 388. 
" Cambridge Bard," 412. 
Canals, 6, 12, 51, 75, 282, 524. 
Carey, H. C, 97, 99, 101. 
" M., 98. 



Carr, D., 67. 

Carson, C, 226. 

Carver, J., 206. 

Channing, W. E., 126, 250, 306, 309, 495, 

509. 
Chase, S. P., 100, 111, 132, 133, 246, 257. 
Chauncey, Com., 172. 
Chickering, J., 531, 534. 
Childs, G."W., 463. 
Civil Rights Bill, 135. 

" Service Reform, 160. 
Claflin, H. B., 541. 
Clarke, W., '319. 
Clay, H., 78, 79, 82, 84, 86, 89, 92, 93, 94, 106, 

115, 133, 159, 223. 510. 
Clergymen. See Divines. 
" Clermont, " 6, 7, 14. 
Clinics, 325. 

Clinton, De W., 51, 75, 77, 117, 282, 494, 498. 
G., 72, 75. 
Sir H., 144, 145. 
Clocks, 37. 
Cole, T., 496. 
Colman, J., 48. 
Columbia River, 222, 229. 
Confederation, Articles of, 42. 
Congregationahsts, 296, 298, 299, 309, 318. 
Congress, Colonial, 64. 

Continental, 42, 47, 50, 53, 55, 58, 61, 
64. 67, 70, 73, 142, 294, 295, 296, 
318, 319. 
Stamp Act, 62. 
Convention, Constitutional, of 1853, 102. 
Commanders, Military and Naval, 139, 175. 
Decatur, S., 166. 
Farragut, D. G., 197. 
Grant, U. S., 179. 
Greene, N., 146. 
Jackson, A., 156. 

T. J. ("Stonewall"), 193. 
Johnston, J. E., 195. 
Jones, J. P., 151. 
Lee, R. E., 189. 
McClellan, G. B., 175. 
Perry, M. C, 174. 
" O. H.,170. 
Scott, W., 160. 
Washington, George, 139. 
Commerce, 272, 513. 
Commercial Agency, 540. 
Committee of Correspondence, 6, 7, 70. 
"Common Sense,'" Paine's, 49. 
Compromise, Clay's Worst, 81, 93. 
Missouri, 81, 106. 
of 1850, 116. 
Constitution, U. S., 52, 56, 83, 86, 88. 
Cooper, J. F., 98, 392, 396, 400. 



5GG 



Index. 



Cooper, Peter, 51, 379. 

Cooper Union, 280, 283. 

Co\w, T. v., 523, 525. 

(\)ploy, J. 8., 483, 485, 493, 494 

Cornwallis. See Surrender of Yorktown. 

C'ortoreal Bios., 23G. 

Cotton, 3, 93, 526. 

"Courier and Enquirer," 459. 

Criiwlord, W. 11., 159, 163. 

' ' T 508 

CUu-tis, G. W.', 426, 462, 549, 550. 
Cusliman, C, 474, 511. 

S., 477. 
Currier, Baron, 324, 353, 370. 

Dana, C. A., 456, 552. 
" J. D.,358. 
" R. H., Sr., 407. 
" R. H., Jr., 434. 
Dailev, F. O. C, 502. 
Davis, J., 188, 196. - 
Davy, Sir H., 324. 
Decatur, J., 168, 513. 

S., 166. 
Declaration of Indepenclence, 42, 47, 58, 60, 63, 
64, 70. 73, 85, 118, 140, 255, 294, 295, 296, 306, 
318, 319, 490, 498. 
De Haven, Lieut., 237. 
De Loni;-, G. W., 250. 

Democratic Partv. 59, 61, 71, 75, 81, 82, 102, 
106, 107, 113, 126, 128, 133, 160, 179, 385, 
386. 
DEstaing, Count, 43, 139, 144, 149. 
Des Moines River Explorations, 224, 235. 
Dennison, A. L., 37. 
Dentists, 333. 

Morton, W. T. G., 335. 
Wells, H,, 333. 
Derby, E. H., 513, 535. 
" Dial," The, 430, 433. 
Dick, N. & J. &Co., 533. 
Dinwiddle. R,, 140, 141. 
Divines, Eminent, 284, 290. 

Beeclier, Henry Ward, 311. 

Lyman, 309. 
Channing. "W. E., 306. 
Du Bois. .J.. 304. 
D\vii;-Iit, T., 295. 
Edwards, J., 271. 
Eliot. J., 284. 
Hughes. Joiin J., 303. 
Judson, A., 298. 
Mather, C. 288. 
r, 286. 
Williams, R., 206. 
Witherspoon, J., 294. 
Doughty, T., 496. 



Douglass, B. & Co., 540. 
Drake, J. R., 408. 
Du Bois, J., 304. 
Dun & Co., 541. 
Durand, A. B., 496. 
Duyckinck, E., 546. 
Dwight, T., 295, 309. 

Edison, T. A., 34. 

Editors and Joiu-nalists, 438. 

Bennett, J. G., Sr., 442. 
J. G., Jr., 447. 

Childs, G. W., 463. 

Curtis, G. W., 462. 

Dana. C. A., 456. 

Greeley, H., 449. 

Raymond, H. J., 458. 

Ripley, G., 456. 
Education, 72, 75, 96, 268, 269, 283, 284, 373. 
Edwards, J., 291, 295. 
Electricity, 16, 34, 37, 362. 
Election, Dispute of 1876, 138. 
Eliot, J., 284, 286, 408. 
Ellery, W., 306. 
Emancipation of Slayes, 135. 
Embargo Act, 73, 126. 
Emerson, R. W., 104, 399, 425, 439, 480, 431, 

432, 434. 
Engine, Caloric, 11, 12. 

Fire, 13. 

Hydrostatic, 12. 

Locomotive, 13, 223, 283. 

Solar, 12. 

Steam, 13, 233. 
Engravers, 503. 

Anderson, A., 503. 

Cole, T., 503. 

Davis, 503. 

Durand, A. B., 496. 

Linton, W., 503. 

Yuengling, 503. 
Era of Good Feeling, 440. 
Ericsson, J., 8. 
Essayists, 404. See Poets. 
Esqmmaux, 245, 246, 247, 348. 
"Etheon,"'337. 

Etheiization. See Anaesthetics. 
Ethnology, 330. 
Evarts, W. M., 136. 
Everett, A., 391, 441. 

E., 95, 380, 391, 441, 508, 510. 
Explorations, Antarctic, 235. 

America, 201. 

Arctic, 236, 278. 279. 

California, 230, 233, 234. 

Columbia River, 222, 234. 

Des Moines River, 224. 



Index. 



567 



Explorations : 

Great Salt Lake, 239. 

Kentucky, 215. 

Massaclnisetts, 201, 206. 

Missouri River, 219, 234. 

New England, 205, 206. 

Pacific Coast, 231, 251. 

Rhode Island, 207. 

Rocky Mountains, 221, 225, 227, 230, 232. 

Sierra Nevada, 229, 230, 232. 

South Sea, 235, 359, 367. 

Virginia, 201, 204. 

West, 219, 223. 
Explorers, See Pioneers. 

" Fanny Forrester," 301. 
Federal Coinage, 71. 

" Constitution, 74. 

" Party, 57, 59, 71, 73, 79, 84, 88, 133, 128, 
426, 441. 
"Federalist," The, 56. 
Field, C. W., 20. 
Fillmore, M., 85, 87, 103, 133. 
Fisher, G., 32. 
Flint, A.,Sr., 340. 
" A., Jr., 340, 343. 
" T., 388. 
Foote, A. H., 180. 
Forrest, E., 453, 470, 477. 
Fort Donelson, 180. 

Duquesne, 140, 141, 487. 

Erie, 162. 

Gaines, 200. 

George, 162, 173. 

Henry, 180. 

Jackson, 198. 

McAllister, 188. 

Morgan, 200. 

St. Philip. 198. 

Sumter, 107, 175, 357, 447. 

Washington, 142. 
Franklin, B.', 6, 16, 41, 46, 48, 55, 57, 58, 71, 173, 
235, 318, 319, 320. 

" Lady, 236, 238. 

" Sir J., 236. 239, 246, 248, 277. 
Free Masons, 114, 533. 
" Soil Party, 113, 133. 
" Trade, 8, 81, 99, 101, 103, 103, 104. 
Freeman, Mrs., 511. 
Fremont. J. C, 223, 335, 333, 388. 

Mrs. J. C, 334. 
Fugitive Slave Bill, 133. 
Fuller, M.Ossoli, 431, 434, 
Fulton, R., 5, 334. 
Funding Act, 56. 

Gage, T., 61. 
Gallatin, A., 233. 



Garrison, W. L., 133, 353, 258, 260, 363. 539. 
Gates, H., 143, 150. 
Giddings, J., 361. 
Gilford, R. S., 502. 
8. R., 502. 
Gin, Cotton, 2, 3. 
Girard, S., 270, 533. 
Gold, Discovery of, 233. 
" Geotlry Crayon," 391. 
Goodhue, B.. 517. 
Goodyear, A. & Sons, 34. 

' ' C '^3 

Gosnold, B., 2o"l.' 
Grant, U. S., 117, 134, 138, 179, 186, 188, 191, 

200, 383, 388, 455, 456. 
Gray, A., 373. 
" Great Eastern," 23. 
Greek Oppression, 82, 83, 85, 253. 
Greeley, H., 92, 115, 116, 135, 430, 433, 449, 456, 

458, 461. 
Greenhacks, 111. 
Greene, N., 51, 54, 145. 
Greenough, H., 495, 505, 507. 
Grinnell, H., 236, 238. 246, 277. 

Expedition, 1st, 235, 236, 238. 
2d, 239, 244, 277. 
Gunboats, 9, 10, 11. 
Guyot, A. H., 371. 

Hale, C, 442. 
" D., 538. 
" N., 438. 
Hall, C. F., 246, 249, 250, 459. 
Halleck, F., 408, 421, 512. 
H. W., 178, 181. 
Hallock, G., 538. 
Hamilton, A., 48, 49, 51, 52, 71, 74, 79, 120, 132, 

143, 255, 490, 513. 
Hancock, J., 61, 64, 259. 
Handel and Hadyn Society, 434, 456, 468. 
Hard Cider Campaign. 452. 
Harper & Bros., 442, 459, 462, 463, 544. 

" Fletcher, 550. 

" James, 545. 

" John, 547. 

" J. W., 549. 
Harper's Ferry, 191, 192, 194, 262. 447. 
Harrison-Tyler Administration, 85. 

W. H., 86, 96, 130, 387, 453. 
"Harry of the West." 80. 
Hawlcy, J., 51, 75. 
Hawthorne, N., 396, 400, 439. 
Hay, 31. 
Hayes, Isaac L, 343, 346. 

" R. B., 138, 435. 
Hayne, R. Y., 86, 88, 133, 160. 
Hayti, 135, 271. 



56S 



Index. 



Helmuth, W. T.. 342. 
Henry, J., 361, 368, 376. 

" P., 50, 57. 65, 70, 71, 78, 120, 142. 
" Herald," N. Y., 350, 442, 449, 452, 464. 
Hicks, E., 264. 
Hiklreth, R., 387. 388. 
Hill, H. R. W., 531. 
Hill, McLean & Co., 532. 
Historians, 376. 

Bancroft, G., 384. 

Blaine, J. G., 388. 

Fremont, J. C, 388. 

Flint, T., 388. 

Grant, U. S., 388. 

Hildreth, R., 387. 

Irving', W., 389. 

Lee, H., 388. 

Lossing-, B. J., 388. 

Motley, J. L., 382. 

Palfrey, J. G., 388. 

Parkman, F., 388. 

Prescott, W. H., 376. 

Ramsay, D., 388. 

Ticknor, G., 379. 
Hoe, R., 38. 

" R. M., 38. 
Holmes, O. W.. 332, 382, 419. 
Holy Alliance, 85. 
"Home Weeldv," 466. 
Hood, J. B., 196. 
Hosmer, H., 511. 
Howard, E., 37. 
Howe, E., 31. 

" G. A., 142, 143, 144. 
Hughes, Jolin J., 302. 
Hunt, W. M.,500. 
Hunter, J., 322, 323. 

Illustrators, 502. 

Darley, F. O. C, 502. 
Nast, T., 502. 
Reinhart, C. S. , 503. 
India-Rubber, 23. 

Indians, 140, 201, 202, 204, 205, 210, 213, 216, 217, 
218, 219, 220, 222, 226, 227, 232, 284, 294, 346, 
418,486,487,531. 
Impressment of Am. Seamen, 84. 
Improvements, Internal, 80, 114, 533, 92. 
Independence. See Declaration. 
" Acknowledged, 71. 

Birth of, 62. 
Inoculation, 290, 315. 
Inventors, 1. 

Bigelow, E. B., 38. 
Blanchard, T., 14. 
Cooper. Peter, 279. 
Dennison, A. L., 37. 



Inventors : 

Edison, T. A., 34. 

Ericsson, J., 8. 

Fulton, R., 4. 

Goodyear, C, 23. 

Henry, J., 362. 

Hoe, R., 38. 

Hoe, R. M., 88. 

Howard, E.. 37. 

Howe, E., 31. 

Jerome, C., 37. 

Lyall, J., 38. 

McCormick, 26. 

Morse, S. F. B., 16. 

Rodman, T. J., 13. 

Terry, E., 37. 

Whitney, E., 1, 2. 
Irving, W., 98, 327, 389. 

Jackson, A., 81, 82, 88, 93, 93, 94, 156, 163, 443. 

508, 513, 531, 533. 
Jackson, C. F., 331, 334, 337. 

T. J. (Stonewall), 176, 178, 191, 192. 
Jacobi, M. P., 842. 
Japan Expedition, 174. 
Jay, J., 44, 56, 58, 73, 75, 120, 343, 435, 490. 
Jeanette Exjjedition, 250. 

Jefferson, Thomas, 42, 44, 51, 57, 58, 59, 60, 
67, 08, 09, 79, 85, 126, 166, 21Q, 231, 255, 
513. 
Jefferson, Joseph, 481. 
Jenner, E., 315. 
Jerome, C, 37. 
Jewett, J. P., 400. 
Johnson, A., 110, 137, 183. 

E., 502. 
Johnston, A. S , 179, 180, 190. 

J. E., 176, 186, 188, 195. 
Jones, J. P., 43, 51, 151. 
"Journal of Commerce," 538. 
Journalists, 438. See Editors. 
Judson, A., 298. 

A. H., 299. 
E. C, 301. 

S. H. (Mrs. Boardman), 301. 
"Junto," The, 46. 

Kane, E. K., 236, 243, 244, 245, 251, 277. 
Kansas, Admission of, 103. 

Nebraska Bill. 114, 358, 453. 
Kearney, P., 231. 
Kensett, J. F., 502. 
Kent, J., 122. 
Kentucky, 214. 
King-, R., 121. 
Knovv-Nothing Party, 116. 



Index. 



5G9 



Lafarge, J., 501. 
Lafayette, Marquis, 145, 368. 
Lathe, Turning, 15. 
Laurens, H. , 44, 58. 
Lawrence, A. & A., 525. 

Abbott, 368, 525, 528, 531, 
" Amos, 538. 

Scientific School, 527. 
Town of, 526. 
Lawyers, 118. 

Adams, J., 57. 
Bryant, W. C, 406. 
Callioun, J. C, 90. 
Cliase, S. P., 113. 
Choate, R., 139. 
Clay, H., 78. 
Evarts. W. M., 136. 
Hamilton, A., 53. 
Hayne, R. Y., 88. 
Henry, P., 65. 
Hildreth, R., 387. 
Jay, J., 44. 
Jefferson, T., 69. 
Jackson, A., 157. 
Kent, J., 124. 
Lincohi. A., 106. 
Marshall, J., 118. 
Morris, G., 50. 
Murray, L., 343. 
O' Conor, C, 135. 
Otis, J., 62. 
Pinkney, W. , 132. 
Scott, W., 161. 
Seward, W. H., 114. 
Stanton, E. M., 110. 
Story, J., 126. 
Webster, D., 82. 
Wirt, W., 68, 112, 129. 
" Ledger," Philadelphia, 463. 
Lee, C, 143, 144, 148. 
" H., 67, 388. 
" R. E., 109, 176. 178, 182, 186. 188, 189. 194, 

195, 262. 
" R. H., 67, 70. 
Legislature, Massachusetts, 57, 61, 64. 
" Pennsylvania. 43. 

Virginia, 65, 68, 70, 120, 143. 
Lentz, E., 502. 
Lewis, M., 219. 
"Liberator," The, 254. 
Library, Astor, 521, 522. 

" Boston Athenseum, 380. 
" Free Public, 381. 
Lincoln, A., 100, 104, 108, 110, 111, 112, 114, 116, 
134, 165, 176, 179, 182, 190, 235 236, 400, 461. 
Literary Fairs, 98. 

Gazette. 464. 



Living.ston, C, 6. 

R. R., 43. 
Locomotive Enaine, 13, 223, 883. 

Novelty. 13. 

Rocket, 13. 
Longfellow, H. W., 381, 398, 408, 416, 433, 434. 
Lougworth, N., 507. 
Loom, Automatic, 38. 

" Improved Shuttle, 38. 
Lossing, B J., 388. 
Louisiana Purchase, 72, 163. 
Lovejoy, E. P., 259. 
Lowell, J. R., 422, 510. 

" J., 439. 
Lowejl, Founders of, 536. 
Lundy, B., 253. 
Lyall, J., 38. 

Machine, Pumping, 20. 
" Reaping, 36, 29. 
Sewing, 31, 32. 
Stocking, 14. 
Mackay, J., 536. 
Mann, H., 368. 
"March to the Sea," 187. 
Marshall, J., 52, 118, 128, 129, 508. 
Mason, L., 467. 

" and Dixon's Line, 81, 94. 
" and Slidell, 116. See "Trent" Affair. 
Massasoit, 195, 207. 
Mather, C, 386, 388. 315, 316. 

" Increase, 286. 
Maury, M. F., 366. 
Maxwell, 236. 

McClellan, G. B.. 108, 175, 190, 193, 194, 207. 
McChntock, Sir F., 246. 
McCormick, C. H., 26. 
McDowell, L, 108, 175, 176, 186, 193, 194. 
McElrath, T., 452. 
McPherson, J. B., 186. 
Mercantile Agency, 540. 

" Library, Philadelphia, 534. 
Merchants, 513. See Business Men. 
"Merrimac," 10. 
Mexico, 116, 164, 185. 
" Mill Boy of the Slashes," 78. 
Ministers, 384. See Divines. 
Missionary Work, 398. 
Missoui-i River Explorations, 319. 
Mitchell, S. L., 323. 
S. W., 342. 
"Monitor," 10, 11. 
Montague, Lady M., 316. 
Morns'; G., 48. 

" R., 46, 47, 51, 56, 513. 
Morristown, 145, 148. 
Morse, S. F. B., 16, 340, 499. 



570 



Index. 



Morton, S. G., 330. 

W. T. G., 331, 334, 335, 339. 
Motlev, J. L., 135, 258, 380, 382. 
Mott, L., 257. 261; 263, 267. 

" Valentine, 325, 498. 
Mount Vernon, 97, 142, 146. 
Miiller, M., 360. 
Murray, L., 343, 346, 498. 

R., 343. 
Musicians, 467. 

Nast, T., 502. 

Native American Party, 116. 

Nebraska Bill, 114, 358, 453. 

Nelson, T., 71. 

Newfoundland and London Tel. Co., 30, 382. 

Newport, 145, 149. 

Newspapers, American, 45, 438. See Editors. 

Non-importation Act, 47. 

Northeast Passage, 236. 

Northwest " 236. 

Novelists, 389. 

Cooper, J. F., 392. 

Hawthorne, N., 396. 

Stowe, H. B., 400. 
Nullification, 86, 88, 93, 93, 160, 164. 
NuUifiers, 81, 93, 94, 223. 

O'Conor, C, 135. 

"Old Hickory," 81, 159. 

Open Polar Sea, 242, 243, 245. 

Oregon Bill, 94, 130. 

Ossawatomie, 261. 

Ossoli, M. Fuller, 431, 434. 

Otis, J., 61, 63, 64, 259. 

Paine, Thomas, 49. 
Painters, 483. 

Allston, W., 493. 

Beard, W. H., 502 

Copley, J. S., 483. 

Durand, A. B., 496. 

Fulton, Robert, 4. 

Gifford, R. S., 503. 
S. R., 503 

Hunt, W. M., 500. 

Johnson, E., 503. 

Kensett, J. F., 503. 

La Farge, J., 501. 

Lentz, E., 503. 

Morse, S. F. B., 16 

Stuart, G., 491. 

Sully, T., 493. 

Trumbull, J., 489. 

Vanderlyn, J., 494 

West, B., 485. 
Palfrey, J. G., 388. 



Parker, F. A., 238. 
Parkman, F., 388. 
"Parsons' Cause," 66, 78. 
"Pathfhider Rocky Mountains," 234. 
Peabody, G., 239, 274, 376, 510. 
Penn, W., 211. 

" Sons of, 42. 
Perry, A. L., 104. 
" C. R., 170. 
" M. C, 174. 
•' O. H., 170. 
Petersburg, 183. 

Philanthropists, 253. See Reformers. 
Philhps, W., 132, 257. 
Physicians and Surgeons, 315. 

Agnew, C. R., 342. 

Allen, T. F., 342. 

Anderson, A., 503. 

Bard, S., 319. 

Barthalow, R., 342. 

"Beck, J. B., 339. 
" T. R., 338. 

Blackwell, E., 343. 

Boylston, Z., 315. 

Flint, Austin, Sr., 340. 
" Austin, Jr., 342. 

Francis, J. W., 327. 

Helmuth, W. T., 342. 

Holmes, O. W., 419. 

Jackson, C. F., 338. 

Jacobi, M. P., 342. 

Loomis, A., 343. 

Mitchell, S. L., 333. 
S. W., 335. 

Morton, S. G. , 330.' 
W., 331. 

Mott, v., 335. 

Physick, P. S., 33,^ 

Ranney, S. L., 342. 

Roberts, W., 342. 

Rush, B., 317. 

Warren, J. C, 337. 

Waterhouse, B., 492. 

Weir, R. F., 342. 

Wells, H., 333. 
Physick, P. S., 321, 322, 498. 
Piano-making, 534. 
Pierce, F., 103, 135, 165, 397, 899. 
Pilgrims, 301, 306, 311, 387. 
Pinkney, W., 133, 139. 
Pioneers and Explorers, 201. 

Boone, D., 315. 

Bradford, W., 306. 

Carver, J., 306. 

Clarke, W., 319. 

DeLong, G. W., 250. 

Fremont, J. C, 238. 



Index. 



571 



Pioneers and Explorers : 

Gosnold, B., 201. 

Hall, C. F., 246. 

Hayes, I. I., 243. 

Kane, E. K., 236. 

Lewis, M., 219. 

Penn, W., 211. 

Rodgers, J., 251. 

Smith, J.. 202, 206. 

Standish, M., 206. 

Wilkes, C, 235. 

Williams, R., 206. 
Plymouth, 206. 
Pocahontas, 207. 
Poe, E. A., 412, 416. 
Poets and Essayists, 404. 

Bryant, W. C, 404. 

Dana, R. H., 407. 

Drake, J. R., 408. 

Emerson, R. W., 425. 

Fuller, M. Ossoli, 431. 

Halleck, F., 408. 

Holmes, O. W., 419. 

Longfellow, H. W., 408. 

Lowell, J. R., 422. 

Poe, E. A., 412. 

Ripley, G., 456, 459, 552. 

Tlioreau, H. D., 429. 

Webster N. 434. 
Political Economy, 50, 51, 98, 101, 103, 104. See 

also Tariff, Protection, and Free Trade. 
Political Economists, 97. 

Calhoun, J. C, 90. 

Carey, H. C, 97. 

Clay, H., 78. 

Franklin, B., 41. 

Greeley, H., 92, 449. 

Hamilton, A., 52. 

Morris, G., 50. 
" Robert, 47. 

Perry, A. L., 104. 

Walker, A., 101. 

F. A., 103. 
" R. J., 102. 
Polk, J. K., 19, 82, 102, 232, 332, 385, 399. 
Pope, J., 178, 194. 
Porter, D., 197, 198, 517. 

D. D., 198. 
Powder, Gun, 13. 
Powers, H., 506, 508. 
Preble, E., 166, 168. 
Presbyterianism, 292, 294, 310. 
Fresco tt, W. H., 376, 379, 380,382, 441. 
' ' Princeton," Gunboat, 9. 
Printing, 38, 39, 40, 43. 
Privateering, 514. 
Protection. See Tariff. 



Providence, 207. 
"Publishers' Weekly," 464. 
Publishing Business, 541, 544. 

Appleton, D. & Co., 551. 

Harper & Bros. , 544. 
Puritans, 284, 286, 375, 396, 416, 418, 425. 

Quakers, 211, 213, 263, 416, 533. 

Railroads, 224, 233, 281, 298, 524, 530. 
Ramsey, D., 388. 
Randolph, J., 68. 
P., 70. 
Ranney, A. L., 342. 
Raymond, H. J., 456, 458. 
Recorder, Telegraph, 18. 
Reformers and Philanthropists, 252, 310. 

Anthony, S. B., 268. 

Beecher, Henry Ward, 311. 
" Lyman, 310. 

Blackwell, A. Brown, 267. 
L. Stone, 267. 

Brown, J., 261. 

Cooper, P., 279. 

Garrison, W. L., 252. 

Girard, S., 270. 

Lovejoy, E. P., 259. 

Lundy, B., 253. 

Mann, H., 268. 

Mott, L., 261. 

Peabody, G., 274. 

Philhps, W., 257. 

Smith, G., 261. 

Stanton, E. C, 264,266. 
H. C, 264, 266. 

Tappan, A., 261. 

Lewis, 261. 

Vassar, M., 270. 

Whittier, J. G., 261. 
Reinhart, C. S., 502. 
Republican Party (present), 100, 107, 116, 138, 

235, 386, 400, 436, 441, 453, 461. 
Republican Party, National, 96, 436. 
Republican Party, New, 59, 61, 71, 72, 75, 79, 

81, 386. See Democratic Party. 
"Richard Saunders," 45, 46. 
Riggs & Peabody, 275. 
Rights of Search, 73, 171. 
Ring- Frauds, 135. 
Ripley, G., 456, 459, 552. 
Roberts, W., 342. 
"Rocket," Locomotive, 13. 
Rocky Mountain Explorations, 221, 225, 227, 230. 
Rodman, T. J., 13. 
Roman Catholicism, 302, 
Rotation in Office, 159. 
Rumford^ Count, 346, 368. 



572 



Index. 



Sage of Concord, 426. 

San Doniin^i^'o Question, 135. 

Santa Anna, l(i4. 

Scholars and Teac'hers, 343. 

Af;assiz, L. J. R. . 369. 

Audubon, J. J., 353. 
Mrs., 353. 

Burritt, E., 374. 

Dana, J. D., 858. 

Gray, A., 373. 

Guyot, A. H., 371. 

Henry, J., 361. 

Maury, M. F., 366. 

Murray, L., 343. 

Ruml'ord, Count, 346. 

Sillinian, B., Sr., 356. 
B., Jr., 358. 

Thompson, B., 346. 

Torrey, J., 372. 

Whitney, W. D., 360. 

Wilson, A., 349. 

Woolsey, T. D., 360. 
Schuyler, P., 51. 
Scott, Winfield, 93, 160, 175, 176, 183, 189, 190, 

195, 513. 
Sculptors, 505. 

Brown, H. K, 513. 

Cravvlora, T., 508. 

Freeman, Mrs., 511. 

Greenough, H.,505. 

Hosmer, H., 511. 

Powers, Hiram, 506. 

Stebbins, E., 511. 

Story, W. W., 510. 

Ward, J. Q. A., 512. 

Whitney, Miss, 511. 
Secession, 93. 
Settlement of Boonesborough, 316. 

Jamestown, 201. 

Pennsylvania, 213. 

Plymouth, 206. 

Providence, 207. 
Sewall, S., 126. 

Seward, W. H., 113, 114, 165, 236, 806, 453. 
Sewing-machine, 31, 32. 
Sherman, R., 43. 

W. T., 183, 186, 196. 
Siege or Surrender of Appomattox, 183. 
' Atlanta, 187, 194. 

Cerro Gordo, 164. 

Chapultepec, 164. 

Fort Donelson, 179, 18 

Fort Duquesne, 141. 

Fort Erie, 163. 

Fort George, 163, 172. 

Fort Henry, 180. 

Harper's Ferry, 191, 194. 



Siege or Surrender of : 

Mexico, 165. 

New Orleans, 158. 

Pensacola, 158. 

Petersburg, 182, 186, 194, 300. 

Raleigh, 188, 196. 

San Juan d'UUoa, 164. 

Saratoga, 143. 

Savannah, 188. 

Stony Point, 144. 

Tripoli, 167. 

Vera Cruz, 164, 174. 

Vicksburg, 182, 186, 194, 200. 

Yorktown, 48, 55, 64, 130, 145, 150, 155, 
156, 176, 435. 
Silliman, B., Sr., 356, 358, 393. 

B., Jr., 356. 
Slavery, 44, 55, 70, 71, 83, 86, 87, 90, 91, 93, 94, 
107, 113, 113, 114, 116, 133, 133, 135, 136, 148, 
335, 252, 266, 367, 369, 313, 333, 403, 416, 418, 
433, 533, 538. 
Slidell. See Trent Affair. 
Sloat, J. D., 331. 
Smith, G., 133, 361, 447. 

John, 303, 306. 
Smithsonian Institution, 130, 361, 365, 366. 
South Carolina Exposition, 93, 553. 

" Sea Expedition, 335, 359. 367. 
Stamp Act, 43, 57, 58, 61, 63, 65. 
Standish, M., 306. 
Stanton, E. C, 357, 364, 366. 

KM., 108, 179, 181, 183, 456. 
H. B., 364, 366. 
State Debts, Assumption of, 56. 
Statesmen and Orators, 41, 78. 

Adams, John, 57. 

Samuel, 64. 

Calhoun, J. C, 90. 

Carey, H. C, 97. 

Chase, S. P., 111. 

Choate, R., 139. 

Clay, H., 78. 

Clinton, De W., 75. 

Everett, E., 95. 

Franklin, B., 43. 

Hamilton, A., 53. 

Hancock, J., 61. 

Hayne, R. Y., 88. 

Henry, P., 65. 

Jav, J., 73. 

Jeiferson, T., 68. 

Lincoln, A., 104. 

Morris, G., 50. 
" R., 46. 

Otis, J., 63. 

Perry, A. L., 104. 

Pinkuey, W., 133. 



Index. 



573 



Statesmen and Oratore : 

Seward, W. H., 114. 

Stanton, E. M., 108. 

Sumner, C, 130. 

Walker, A., 101. 

F. A., 103. 
R. J., 103. 

Webster, D., 82. 
States' Rio-hts, 71, 88, 133, 193, 526. 
Steam, 6, 89, 10, 16, 33, 334. 
Stebbins, E., 511. 
Stewart, A. T., 541. 
Stocking-machine, 14. 
Stockton, R. F., 9, 10, 331. 
Stone, Blackwell L., 365. 
Story, J., 121, 136, 131, 306, 510. 

" W. W., 424, 510, 511. 
Stowe, C. E., 313, 403. 

" Harriet Beecher, 400. 
Stuart, G., 491, 494, 498. 

J. E. B., 176, 363. 
Submarine Telegraph, 20. 
Warfare, 8, 10. 
Sub-Treasury, 86. 
Sulhvan, J., 149, 514. 
"Sun,"N. Y., 452, 456, 553. 
Sully, T., 493. 

Sunnier, C, 113, 130, 357, 509. 
Surgeons, 315. See Physicians. 
Surrenders. See Sieges. 

Tammany Society, 75, 77. 
Taney, R. B., 112, 160. 
Tappan, A. & L., 132, 354, 361, 537. 
Tariff, Compromise, 81, 83. 

" Protective, 57, 80, 86, 93, 93, 98. 99, 100, 
101, 104, 130, 441, 453. 

•* Troubles, 93, 160. 
Taylor, Z., 103, 115, 537. 
Teachers, 343. See Scholars. 
Telegraph, 16-30, 34, 382, 333, 340, 863. 
Tenure of Office Bill, 110. 
Terry, E., 37. 

Texas, 82, 86, 94, 102, 115, 133, 383, 387. 
Thanksgiving Day, 387. 
Thomas, G. H., 183. 
Thompson, B., 346, 368. 

C., 61. 
Thoreau, II. D., 399, 439. 
Ticknor, G., 379,441. 
Tilden, S. J., 138. 
Timber-bending, 16. 
"Times," N. Y., 448, 456, 458. 
Torpedoes, 8, 11. 
Torrey, J., 373, 373. 
Transmitter, Telegraph, 18, 
Treaty, Franklin's, with France, 48, 44. 



Treaty, Franklin's, with Prussia, 44. 

Jay's, 14, 130, 133. 

Japan and U. S., 174. 

Ghent, U. S. and England, 80, 90. 

Revolutionary, with England, 44, 58, 71. 
" Webster-Ashburton, 86. 
"Trent" Affair, 116, 135, 165, 336. 
"Tribune," N. Y., 100, 433, 453, 455, 458, 459. 
Trumbull, John, 489, 491, 493, 494, 499, 553. 

Jonathan, 489. 
Tuckerman, J,, 306. 
Tyler's Cabinet, 10, 86, 94. 

Union and States' Right Convention, 88. 
Unitarianism, 264, 306, 307, 309, 426, 456. 

Vallev Forge, 118, 143, 148. 

Van Buren, M., 93, 133, 159, 160, 385, 443, 

508. 
Vanderbilt, C, 528, 545.. 

" Steamboat, 531. 

" Universitv, 531. 

Vanderlvn, J., 494, 496, 498. 
Vane, Sir H., 310. 
Van Zandt, J., 113. 
Vicksburg, 183, 186, 196, 200. 
Vulcanized Rubber, 33. 

WaiKer, A., 101. 
" F. A., 103. 
" R. J., 103, 
War, See also Battles and Sieges. 
Algerine, 169, 
Black Hawk, 163, 
Civil, 10, 97, 100, 102, 103, 104. 107, 111, 

116, 165, 175, 180, 186, 189, 193, 195, 197, 

235, 336, 348, 350, 351, 357, 305, 314, 336. 

337, 388, 400, 433, 438, 447, 456, 543, 553. 
Crimean, 100, 175. 
French and English, 155, 

and Indian, 140, 214, 316, 
King Philip's, 310, 386. 
Mexican, 86, 160, 164, 175, 180, 189, 193 195, 

231, 238, 351, 333,433. 
of 1813, 44, 80, 90, 91, 133, 158, 160, 163, 168, 

170, 171, 174, 350, 373, 374, 275, 380, 298, 

388, 490, 517. 
Revolutionary, 41, 44, 46, 54, 58, 63, 64, 66, 

71, 85, 118, 133, 153, 156, 166, 314, 317, 273, 

274, 295, 306, 318, 321, 333, 323, 335, 343, 

344, 346, 353, 374, 388, 435, 438, 483, 486, 

493, 510, 513, 518. 
Seminole, 159, 186, 193, 195, 251. 
Tripolitan, 166, 173. 
Ward, J, Q. A., 512. 
Ware, H,, 436- 



0^4 



Index. 



Warren, J. C, 337. 

Washington, George, 46, 48, 51, 53, 54, 55, 57, 
58. 59, 60, 64, 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 130, 131, 123, 
139, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 355, 319, 331, 337, 
435, 489, 490, 493, 498, 505, 513, 513. 
Washington, Mrs., 143, 143, 146. 
Washington of the Medical Profession, The, 333. 
Watches, 37. 
Waterhouse, B., 493. 
Wayne, A., 119, 144. 

Webster, D., 55, 81, 83, 83. 88, 94, 97, 106, 130, 
133, 133, 441, 508. 
E., 84. 

Noah, 434. 498. 
Speller, 505, 553. 
.Weed, T., 115, 453, 453, 545. 
Weir, R. F.,343. 
Wells, H., 331, 333, 335, 336, 339. 
West, B., 5, 8, 485, 490, 493, 493, 494. 
West, Explorations in, 315, 219, 324, 233, 

388. 
West Point, 145, 150. 
Wheat, 31. 



Whig Party, 81, 86, 103, 106, 113, 114, 133, 185, 

385, 387, 436, 441, 453, 453, 461. 
Whiskey Insurrection, 319. 
Whitney, E., 1, 3. 

" Miss, 511. 
Whittier, J. G., 261, 416. 
Wilkes, C, 235, 359, 367. 
Wilkinson, J., 163. 
Wilhams, R.,206. 
Willing & Morris, 47. 
Wilmot Proviso, 87, 94, 113-14, 269. 
Wilson, A., 349, 354, 429. 
Winthrop, J., 207. 
Wirt, W., 68, 112, 129, 
Witchcraft, 288, 290. 
Witherspoon, J., 394, 318. 
Women's Rights, 360, 265, 267. 
Woolsey, T. D., 360, 361. 
World's Fair, London, 29. 276. 
Writs of Assistance, 62. 

Yorktown, 48, 55, 64, 120, 145, 150, 155, 156, 
176, 435. 



THE CHILDREN'S SERIES 
OF HISTORIES 



In Twelve Volumes 



PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED, AND WITH CLEAR DOUBLE-PAGE MAPS, 

ABOUT 225 PAGES EACH, SIZE 7 x 8^/ INCHES, BOUND IN 

CLOTH, AND EVERY COVER STAMPED IN THREE 

COLORS FROM AN ORIGINAL DESIGN. 



Written in simple words 
Mostly of one syllable 



" The broad pages, printed in very large, open type, the 
beautiful and appropriate illustrations, make these books the 
best on historical subjects in the language. ^^ 

— New England Journal of Education. 



New and Revised Edition. 



GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, Ltd. 

119 AND 121 West Twenty-third Street, New York 



The Children's Series of Histories 



WRITTEN SIMPLY 
AND INTERESTINGLY 

Price Per Volume, $t.oo 
iVith numerous Portraits, Illustrations and Child's Maps 



We know of no other 
books which treat the same 
subjects in such a way 
as to interest a 
Juvenile audience. 

—Philadelphia Telegraph. 



The large type, broadly 
spaced lines, and the superior 
illustrations, of which there 
are a great many, all 
contribute to make these 
child's histories superior 
to any other. 

—San Frajicisco Bulletin. 



Simple, bright, 
intelligent, interesting, 
instructive histories are 
here brought to the younger 
readers, and abundance 
of illustration serves to 
increase the pleasure of 
reading, and the chances 
of remembering." 

—New York ScJiool Journal. 



HISTORY 


In Uniforn 


1 Style 

UNITED STATES 


OF THE 






By Helen W. 


PlERSON 




H 


1 S T R Y OF 


E N G L A 


N D 






By Helen W. 


PlERSON 




H 


1 S T 


R Y 1 
Bv Helen W. 


-FRAN 
PlERSON 


C E 


H 


1 S T 


R Y 
By Helen A 


F R U S S 
Smith 


1 A 


H 


1 S T R Y OF 


G E R M A 


N Y 






By Helen W. 


PlERSON 




H 


I S T R Y OF 


1 R E L A 


N D 






By Agnes Sadlier 




H 


1 S T 


R Y 
By Helen A 


F JAP 
. Smith 


A N 


HISTORY 


OF THE NEW TESTAMENT 






By Josephine 


Pollard 




HISTORY 


OF THE OLD TESTAMENT | 






By Josephine 


Pollard 




H 


E R E S OF 


H 1 S T 


R \' 






By Agnes : 


sADLIER 




LIVES 


OF TH E 


PRESIDENTS 


OF THE UNITED STATES| 






By Helen W. 


PlERSON 




B 


ATT 


L E S OF 
By Josephine 


A A\ E R : 
POLLARD 


C A 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTE 



N 



A Little Dissertation on these Histories 

THE purpose in writing the histories here presented 
has been to interest young people in the great nations 
and events of the world. Each history has for this 
reason been told as a plain, straightforward story 
from which all unneccessary details are excluded, making the 
stories as short and not as long as possible. Young folks are 
rarely willing to read attentively many hundred pages upon 
the same subject, and if they are, they cannot from the length 
obtain a precise, satisfactory view of the whole matter. An 
especial endeavor has been made to show clearly the causes 
which led to great events, or determined the deeds of noted 
characters. For in this way as in no other the reader is 
encouraged, by his own grasp of the subject, to go farther and 
acquire a permanent interest in the histories of the nations. 
Complex events, as are many which relate primarily to political 
questions or have a direct bearing upon constitutional history 
rather than upon the story of manners and customs, have been 
either slighted or ignored. This has not resulted from any 
idea of their slight importance but because a vivid- and pic- 
turesque outline should preceed, and naturally and easily lead 
up to a more thorough study. 

The book-workmanship of this series is believed to be 
peculiariy attractive. The pages are large, the margins broad, 
and the type open and clear. Every volume is profusely 
illustrated with striking portraits, landscape and architectural 
pictures, and cuts showing the manners and customs of the 
time and country to which they refer. A double-page map, 
simplified to meet children's needs, and yet accurate, is in- 
cluded in each volume. An original full-page design is 
stamped in three colors upon every cover. 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



A Little Dissertation as an Introduction 

IT is curious, if one considers it, how stupid histories often 
are, and how fiction — which is really but a guessing at 
what people may do, by inference from what they have 

done — is nearly always fascinating. The difference in 
popularity surely lies in the manner of presentation. For all 
the superlatives — grandeur and picturesqueness and romance — 
belong by right to the actual happenings of the world. 

The difficulty is that some of the historians one reads 
have been as the garrulous old lady of comic paper fame. 
They have told so much that they have not told anything. 
They have only written headless and tailless chronologies, in 
which Kings and Queens and Chancellors pop up and are puffed 
out without rhyme or reason. It is difficult to imagine that such 
"wax figures" — called historical characters — were ever breath- 
ing men and women with passion to plot and power to act. 

And so by a queer paradox, young or old who have hap- 
pened to meet only with this dry-as-dust type of history, con- 
sume fiction to find the real characters which history should 
supply them. In several ways this entails a loss. For 
a knowledge of past peoples and civ^ilizations is conducive to 
the sanest view of our own: and to understand what men and 
women actually did do carries a profounder lesson than to 
fancy what they might have done. 

This holds especially true with children, because if their 
imaginations are not at once steadied and stimulated by contact 
with the real they may either become intellectually stolid or 
else think that the imagined and the real are practically 
coincident — which thinking results in grevious practical diffi- 
culties. No study is so sane, easy and beneficial as that of 
history : provided that the histories are of the right kind. 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



Kindly Comments of the Press 

ILLUSTRATED with wood-cuts that show typical classes and 
their several occupations, towns and landscapes, famous events 
in history, objects that indicate the state of the fine arts, and 
a thousand other things desirable to know. — New York Times. 

They are profusely and well illustrated, with brilliantly illuminated 
covers, and are strongly bound, as books which are certain to be as 
largely read as these should be. — New York Mail and Express. 




The Merrimac and the Monitor. 



A unique enterprise The works are quite as descriptive as 

historical, which fact adds to their value for the younger readers. — 
Troy Times. 

The pictures and the bindings are in the attractive style which 
the Routledges have made so familiar in American homes. — Journal 
of Commerce, N. Y. 

A novel idea, an excellent one, and well executed." — Nat. Baptist. 

These books though intended for beginners . . . have been written 
by a competent author, who has followed the best authorities, so that 
the young minds will not be perverted by false statements. — The Critic. 

The illustrations are many and well chosen, while the simple text 
.... make them especially interesting to the young folks who cannot 
yet master long, big-sounding words. — Baltimore American. » 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



REDUCED FAC-SIMILE COLORED COVERS 










%M^ 








The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY V/RITTEN 



reduced FAC-SIMILE COLORED COVERS 






"^ 







1# '^^'^'^'^.^^'^'^''i 




OF 



^kioMm 




4^ 

~~ynrLuSTRATED 







The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



Kindly Comments of the Press 

THE distinctive features of being written both instructively 
and attractively, without sacrifice of importance and accuracy 
in the history .... commend the series as about the only 
one fitted to reach children in their early formative years. 
The books are full of instructive pictures, and the covers have maps on 
the inside and gay decorative scenes in color 
on the outside. They occupy their field 
quite alone, and will be welcomed by parents 
watchful for the best reading for their chil- 
dren. — Boston Globe. 

The design is to convey to quite 
young readers an outline of the history of 
the countries treated, and, in the majority 
of cases, what is taught in these books is 
about all their readers will ever learn, or, 
indeed, need to learn. — Chicago Times. 

These books are written in a style 
that will make them not only interesting 
but instructive to the young Com- 
petent educators consider that they fill a 
want long felt — an interesting history sim- 
ple enough for beginners. — Washington 
National Capital. 

The large type, broadly spaced lines, 
and the superior illustrations of which there 

are a great many, all contribute to make these child's histories superior 
to any others which have been seen of late. — San Francisco Bulletin. 

Admirably adapted for the instruction of the young. — Portland 
Globe. 

This is a capital method of teaching small children both geography 
and history. — New York Observer. 




Indian Stone Tom-a-hawk. 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



History of Japan 

JFTY years ago the quaint and clever people, often styled the 

"Yankees of the East," were as a nation, insignificant. Few 

Europeans knew very much about this island country, and 

fewer cared. To-day Japan, by her pluck and energy, has 

made her plans and projects a matter of serious contemplation to the 

ambassadors and governors of the principal countries of the world. 

Her decisive v/ar with torpid and overgrown China shov/ed that she 








Making Bridges. 

was strong out of all proportion to the number of her people. And it 
is known that she is as ambitious for the spreading of her power as she 
IS fertile :n finding pretexts. She is now engaged wholesale in imitating 
and refashioning to her own uses whatever she considers valuable in the 
institutions and manners of European and American countries. The 
Japanese have always been remarkable for a deft and facile intelligence 
— widely different from the usual Eastern temper — but it has only been 
within recent years and after they unlocked their ports to the com- 
merce of the world, partially through the influence of the United States, 
that they acquired such prestige as to be to-dav a standing menace to 
Russia's hopes and aims iu the Orient. 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



History of England 




^HE authentic history- of England begins with the invasion 
of Britain by the Roman legions under Caesar; and its tem- 
porary close in this volume is found after the death of 
Gladstone and at the beginning of the Boer war. The 
history is divided into chapters which mark off from one another and 
distinguish the important epochs in England's growth. To a large 
extent this history has been considered 
as a series of biographies, for the reason 
that every phase of English activity has 
been represented by one or more great 
characters, who, partly from the impress 
of the times, and partly through their 
own personality have been the centre of an entire movement. To tell 
of these men therefore has been to tell the history of England at that 
period. Thus, the story of Elizabeth is also the story of the Renais- 
sance; that of Charles is the history of the struggle for constitutional 
freedom, and the life of George III. is identified in an unpleasant way 
with the American Revolution. 

History of France 




Old English Coin. 



T 



"^HE history of a land is not alone the record of its wars : 
certainly wars have played a minor part in the history of France, 
which more than any other country has contributed grace 
and beauty and intellectual brilliancy to the world. Hence 
in this chronicle of France the triumphs of peace have kept pace with 
the triumphs of war: the progress of letters and the arts with king^ 
craft and conquest. That the intrigues, plots and counterplots of the 
French Court have not been included in this work is surely no loss. 
Nothing it is believed has been omitted that is conducive to a foundation 
knowledge of the most versatile and accomplished of nations. The 
account of the French Revolution has been given at some length, as 
constituting the most momentous upheaval of modern times. 



The Children's Series of Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



History of Ireland 

THIS history attempts to 
express a just estimate 
of the kindHest and the 
tenderest folk on earth. 
Their extreme and contradictory 
temperament is portrayed — at once 
melancholy and humorous, affec- 
tionate and hostile, quick for sud- 
den good or evil, and cherishing 
with tender constancy the language, 
traditions, wild music, poetry and 
home ideals. An account is given 
of the statesmen and patriots who 
never ceased to combat the domin- 
ation, and often persecution, of 
Ireland's powerful neighbor. The 
history of Ireland was for many 
centuries a sad one, and that this 
was not due to an inherent defect 
in her people their rise to power 
in other lands amply proves. 




Burke's House* 



History of Russia 



K rAHE History of Russia is a story, up to this very day, of 

I internal and external conquest. On her outer bounderies she 

-■- has wrested from her neighbors by force or diplomacy three 

sea-outlets to her kingdom where originally there were none. 

Internally her rulers have forced upon a reluctant people the centralized 

government and many ot the institutions of modern Europe. When 

one reads of the vast achievements they have made in so short a time, 

their dream of an empire extendmg over half the world appears not 

inconsistent and hardly impossible. 



The Children's Series of Histories 

SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 

The Battles of America 

EXCEPT for cumbersomeness the title of this book might better 
have been "The Decisive Battles of America: Their Results 
and Importance." Standing out from the numerous engage- 
ments in the wars of the United States, are a few battles which 
in each war determined its scope and magnitude, directed its course or 
foreshadowed the end. These are the milestones in American history, 
and with these alone this volume deals. The first battle described is 
the little skirmish at Lexington where the shot was fired that "was 
heard around the world." The last great battle is that before Peters- 
burg in 1865. Owing to the recentness of the Spanish war, and the 
consequent lack of historical perspective, a general sketch of the war 
is given instead of a description limited to Manila Bay and Santiago. 
In all cases the portrayal of the actual battle scene is subordinated to a 
delineation of the conditions under which it took place, the great 
characters who took part in it, and the consequences which flowed 
from it. 

Presidents of the United States 

UNDER a democratic government the Presidency represents 
the greatest honor in the gift of the people: the final proof of 
their affection and confidence. To the man honored on the 
other hand it stands for the highest attainable worldly success. 
For these reasons and because the sphere of the President's activity 
is commensurate with the importance of the country, the story of the 
lives of our Presidents is of extreme value. No nation can regard with 
greater pride than ours its temporary rulers. Without exception they 
have, when vested with more than regal authority, sunk personal con- 
sideration in anxiety for the welfare of the country. In most cases 
they have risen from the humblest conditions, solely by their in- 
tegrity, ability and industry. A more inspiring commentary upon 
the sterling worth of democratic institutions could not be given to 
young people. 



The Children's Series OF Histories 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTE 



N 



History of the United States 






THE history of the United States is told in this volume from 
the time when Columbus sailed west to see whether the 
earth were really flat or no, until in January, 1899, the 
Spanish flag on Havana was displaced by the Stars and Stripes. 
The main events of the momentous four centuries intervening are related 
so as to show their causes and inter-relationship. Of course many 
movements of political significance have, by reason of their complexity, 
been cither slighted or ignored. Attention, on the other hand, has been 
given to the progress of invention and the development of the country. 
It is not the purpose of this volume to be exhaustive, but to awaken 
a desire for further and far completer details. "Curiosity is the mother 
of wisdom," and no better results from the reading of this book could 
be wished for than that children should lay it down discontented, and, 
like Oliver Twist, clamor for "more!" 




The First Steam Engine, 



The Children's Series of Histories 



LU^- ' -e 'l^ L B - - 'm m. 



SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 



History of Germany 



THE History of Germany offers 
abundant opportunity for striking 
and picturesque description. 
Since the fall of the Roman 
Empire her warriors and statesmen have 
been the strongest and sternest men of 
Europe. Charlemagne, without material 
or precedent, organized from waring ele- 
ments an effective government. Luther, in 
throwing down the gauntlet to Rome, pre- 
cipitated the religious revolution whose 
reverberations have not yet died away. 
Frederick the Great, king of a handful of 
war-worn veterans and a country drained 
of resources, defied all Europe in arms to 
tear Silesia from his grasp. Bismark 
deliberately employed France as the anvil 
upon which to weld together the separate 

provinces now united as the German Empire. The long and far- 
reaching influence which these and other great sons of Germany had 
upon Europe has been described. 

Heroes of History 

HEROES of History is a sort of child's encyclop.Tedia and 
reference book to the famous kings and captains of the world. 
An intimate and personal biography is given of each of those 
great "doers" whose names will be remembered. As far 
as possible these biographies are given in chronological order, and since 
when one dominant character has succeeded another in power he has gen- 
erally taken upon himself the uncompleted work of his predecessor, this 
chronoloo-ical treatment insures to the work rather the effect of a contin- 
uous and logical history than a series of undetached and unrelated stories. 




The Children's Series OF Histories 

SIMPLY AND VERY INTERESTINGLY WRITTEN 

History of the Old Testament 

THE Old Testament is the history of the Jews and God's 
care of them, and the thought and prophecy of Christ can be 
traced through all its pages. There is however much in the 
history that is confusing to the young mind, partly resulting 
from the fact that the idiom of the English tongue has undergone ex- 
tensive changes and modifications since the translation of the Bible into 
the vernacular of the time of James II. For this and other reasons it 
has been thought well to tell the story of the Jews in such a plain, 
simple way that children may read the book with genuine interest antl 
attention and take home to their hearts the lessons it teaches. In con- 
formity with this purpose the volume has been divided into chapters, 
each of which deals with one well-known Biblical character. In this 
way the reader may obtain the essential facts of the story, and feel its 
warm human interest, while at the same time the history itself is carried 
on step by step. 

History of the New Testament 

TT would seem to many an unnecessary task to make the New 
Testament any simpler than it is. Yet there is much in it that 
a child cannot understand: many sayings so weighted down with 
meaning that old heads have long puzzled over them: many 
maxims in which the whole religion of life is packed into a single 
sentence: many parables which at first or second reading appear para- 
doxical and inconsistent. Further, the story of the Christ is told by 
four Apostles each of whom chose to emphasize certain events and to 
slight or pass over others. Hence the New Testament has for children 
a certain abruptness and lack of continuity. It has been thought on 
this account that a simple narrative, telling the story of Jesus "from 
the Cradle to the Cross," would be valuable, for when once the thread 
of the history is apprehended the New Testament may be taken up 
aeain with far greater appreciation. 



The Children's Popular Library 



In Jive uniform volumes ^ profusely illustrated^ as follows: 

WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY ROBINSON CRUSOE 

SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 

POEMS AND SONGS FOR CHILDREN 

4to, Clothe each $i.oo. 



THESE volumes have been prepared with much care to please children. The appearance and 
woikmanship of a book make a great difference to a child. If it is artistic and striking, 
and also easy to read, has clear type and many illustrations, children will take an interest 
which they would not in a poorly gotten up volume containing the same material. The volumes 
of the present series are of rather large size, 6^ x 8^, as experience has shown that children 
prefer them so. They are copiously illustrated, and are printed on a fine, strong quality of paper 
from open type. A simple yet striking design, full-page size, is stamped in three colors upon the 
covers. These books are old and worthy favorites, but a few words upon their intrinsic merit may 
not be out of place. 



THE volume is copiously il- 
lustrated and has in addi- 



iliatural l^i0toi-^ • ^ . „ 

" tion tour ruU-page colored 

plates done in eight colors. Everyone knows this to be 
the most pleasing and stimulating of natural history books. 
Numerous anecdotes, illustrative of the habits and intel- 
ligence of the various animals are told, and long and technical 
terms are carefully avoided. As an introduction to the study 
of animal life, and for the purpose of awakening in the 
reader a real love for the subject, this masterpiece of sym- 
pathetic yet accurate description has never been equalled. 

Although first issued 
some fifty years ago, 
and since then revised 
and enlarged, this work 
has never had a rival. 



M SWISS FAMILY 




—WOOD'S^ 

MrUEAL HISTORY 




Reduced fac-simile colored book cover. 



Kobinfiou ' 



'HIS is a new translation, 
edited by W. H. G. Kings- 
ton, of — with one exception 
— the most entrancing book of adventure in the world. 
Certain lengthy and somewhat sententious homilies upon 
virtue, found in the original, have been omitted, and some 
slight modifications have been made which effectually enliven 
the narrative. 



B-cduced fac-simile colored book rover. 



The Childrens' Popular Library 



Crufiioe 



Hobin0OU "^TOTHING which is likely to be 
■*- ^ said will add to or detract from 
the universal popularity of this 
prince of romances. Its air of candor, the simplicity and 
purity of its style, and the endless and varied series of the 
adventures it contains, place it without a rival in fiction of 
its kind. The present edition is fully illustrated and taste- 
fully printed and bound. 



PILGRIM' 




ILLySTRATEP 



Reduced fac-simile colored book cover. 



Ij3rogrr0sf 



ROBINSON 
CRUSOE 




Reduced fac-simile colored boolc cover. 



LGRIM'S 
PROGRESS 

needs no comment save that relative to the edition and the 
book making. This volume is the celebrated one edited 
with a memoir of the author by George OrFER. The 
copious notes inserted at the back of book fully explain the 
few passages which are not likely to be readily understood 
by the young folks. Those treating of The House Beauti- 
ful, The Giants and the Battle with Appolyon, may be 
cited as examples. The author's meaning is illuminated 
by one hundred and ten illustrations designed by J, D. 
Watson and executed by the Brothers Dalziel. 



poems; anti ^ongs np"i 
for Cljiltircn '" 



IS delightful col- 

ction of melodies 

has been made by 



Helen Kendrick Johnson, editor also of " Famous Songs 
and Those Who Made Them." Miss Johnson has 
studiously avoided introducing heavy moral poems or those 
whose complex rhythm would prove tiresome to children. 
She has included only such verses as by their sprightliness, 
grace, good humor and easy cadence must inevitably appeal 
to all. The past masters in the art of pleasing, like "The 
Night before Christmas," " The Pied Piper of Hamlin," 
"The Owl and the Pussy Cat," "Seven times One is 
Seven," and "The Spider and the Fly," will all be found 
on these pages. So likewise will many new poems, copy- 
righted by D. Appleton & Co., Charles Scribner's Sons, 
and others, and used by their permission. " The volume aggregates over 300 pages and is believed 
to amount to a practical encyciopsedia of children's verses. A full index islucluded. 



POE/VIS^SONGS 
FOR CHILDREN 




ItLUSTHATED 



Reduced fac-simile colored book cover 



The Little Children's Library 



Four world-known books rewritten in words of one syllable and profusely 
illustrated: ^SOFS FABLES, PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, ROBINSON 
CRUSOE, SWISS FJMILT ROBINSON : 4to, cloth, each ^o cents. 



ROBINSON 
CRUSOE 



IN WORDS 

OF 

ONE SYILABIJE 




^^ri^' 



laUSTRATED 



Reduced fac-simile colored book-cover. 



Children understand 
thoughts of consi- 
derable complexity 
and follow plots of 
some length long 
before they are able 
to read the language 
by which these are 
usually conveyed. 
Every mother knows 
how often she is 
importuned to read 
stories and fairy tales 
to the young ones, 
who- would gladly 
read for themselves 




IIXUSTBATED 



Reduced fac-simile colored book-cover. 



were there anything amusing to read written in words they have learned. One-syllable books, on 
the other hand, have usually liad such inane and useless contents— disconnected sentences on the 
"Do you see the rat?" plan— that they have deservedly fallen into contempt. But one- 
syllable books may have a great value if they present authors and ideas worth while. Children 
not only learn to read in this way faster than in any other, but they acquire a genuine and 
independent taste for it, based on the experience that when they read they get something to pay 
them for their trouble. 

It is with this idea that the present series is published. It consists of four volumes known 
and loved the world over, and perenially popular with children. Each volume is brought within 

about loo pages in 



:^ESOP'S 

FABLES 



mu'ORDS 

OF 

ONE SnL4BLE 




IILUSIRATED 



Reduced fac-simUe colored book-cover, 



length, and is pro- 
fusely illustrated. 

The type is large, 
clear and open, and 
the cloth cover is 
stamped in three 
colors with a sim- 
ple and unique de- 
sign. 



Size of vol., about 
7x8; large and 
thin, instead of 
small and bulky. 



i^ SWISS FMILTS 



W WORDS 

OF 

ONE SYLLABLE 




JLLVSTRATED 



Reduced fac-simile colored book-cover. 



HOFFMANN, PROF. 

€^er^ 3SO5'0 IBook 

of §>port anil ^aBtitnt 

By Experts of Wor d wide Reputation in their Special Departments. 

EDITED BY 

PROF. HOFFMANN, Authok of " Modern Magic." 

IVilk _$jo Illustrations. 8vo, cloth, 900 pages, $2.00 

SUMMARY OF CONTENTS : 

SPORTS AND MANLY EXERCISES. 

Riding ; Driving ; Hunting ; Angling ; Shooting ; Rifle 
Shooting ; Archery ; Cycling ; Swimming ; Rowing ; 
Canoeing ; Sailing ; Camping-Out ; Walking ; Ath- 
letics ; Boxing ; Swordmanship ; Wrestling ; Gym- 
nastics ; Indian Clubs ; Gymnastics at Home ; 
Speed-Skating ; Figure-Skating ; Snow Shoeing ; 
Gymkhanas. 

OUTDOOR GAMES. 

Cricket ; Football ; Pushball ; Polo ; Water Polo 
Golf; Rounders; Baseball; Lawn Tennis; Badminton 
Lacrosse ; Hockey ; Bandy ; Croquet ; Bowls ; Quoits 
Curling ; Rackets ; Fives ; Knurr and Spell. 

SCIENTIFIC RECREATIONS. 

Introductory ; General Notion of Force ; The Mechanical Powers : The Properties 
of Liquids ; The Air ; Magnetism ; Electricity ; Chemical Experiments ; 
Spectroscope . 

THE AMATEUR SHOWMAN. 

Amateur Theatricals; Shadow Pantomime; Shadowgraphy ; Acted Charades; 
Living Waxworks ; Conjuring ; Ventriloquism ; Magic Lantern ; Burlesque 
Entertainments. 

INDOOR GAMES. 

Billiards ; Bagatelle ; Chess ; Draughts ; Backgammon ; Dominoes : Halma ; 
Reversi; Solitaire. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Photography ; Model Yacht Making ; Butterfly and Moth Collecting ; Dogs. 




FAIRY TALES 

By EDOUARD LABOULAYE 

With 251 Illustrations. 
S57 Pages, J,to. Bound in Cloth, ivith Design in Colors, $1.50, 



CONTENTS 

Tliumbkin. A Finnish Tale. 

The Good Woman. A Norwegian 

Story. 

ICELANDIC TALES 

The Story of Briam, the King's Fool 
—The Little Gray Man. 

The Fleece of Gold. A Sermon 

Story. 

Zerbino, the Bear. A Neapolitan 

Tale. 

Fragfolette— Yvon and Finette. 

Piff-Paff ; or, The Art of Govern- 
ment—The Mysterious Garden. 

BOHEMIAN STORIES 

A Frenchman's Visit to Prag:ue. 

Are You not Satisfied? or, The Tale 
of the Noses. 

The Golden Loaf— The Hussar's 
Song-— The Story of Sswanda, the 
Piper— The Twelve Months— The 
Story of Ethiopia. 

The Three Lemons. A Neapolitan 

Tale. 

Captain John's Travels— Perlino, 

A Neapolitan Tale. 

The Shepherd Pashaw. A Turkish 

Story. 

The Castle of Life. 



" Will l)u heartuy welconu'd. The choice is excellent. Tlic narrative has 
the literary (luality which made tlic reputation of the u;enial compiler. The 
pictures, too — of French origin — are good." — New I'ork XalioH, 




MACDONALD. GEORGE 

Dedlltigs with tbe jmk% 

WITH ILL USTRA TIONS. 

127710, Cloth, $I.OO. 

Contents: — THE LIGHT PRINCESS — THE 
GIANT'S HEART — THE GOLDEN KEY — 
CROSS PURPOSES — THE SHADOWS. 




T' 



<^T^HIS charming volume of Fairy Tales, if it did not 
make us wish to be young again, did more, for 
while we were reading, so great was the magic 
of the enchanter's wand, we became young once more, 
and clapped our venerable hands over tbe tears of the 
Light Princess and the doings of Thunderthump." — 
British Quarterly Review. 



"Mr. Macdonald writes as if he had lived a long 
time in fairy land, and not from vague reports, but 
from notes taken on the s^oW —Spectator. 



n Roudb Sbakitid 

A BOOK FOR BOYS. 
i2mo, 20 full-page Illustrations, Cloth, $1.25 




m tbe Back 
of tbe nortb mu 

i2mo, Cloth, with 80 Illustrations, $1.00. 

" In 'At the Back of the North Wind' we stand with one foot on fairyland and 
one on common earth." — London Times. 

" This volume is one of the charming children's stories by its well-known and 
accomplished author, which, unlike most juvenile volumes an adult will read with 
almost equal pleasure with a youth. It is a happy fact that a few of the most skill- 
ful and thoughtful writers of the day are yielding their pens to the instruction and 
interest of young children. This volume hasanunrealness about it bordering almost 
upon the world of pure imagination, but it is full of sweet and practical truths, 
which are presented with such a winning pathos that their impression cannot be 
lost. No child will be satisfied with once reading about the two ' diamonds and 
their touching history ; and the north wind will ever after have a strange sig- 
nificance." 




SMITH, HELEN AINSLIE ("Hazel Shepard'*) 

(Bvmt Cities o(t\)t Ancient Woxlts 

(A companion volume to "Great Cities of the Moder.n World") Profusely illus- 
trated with full-page and smaller views, 254 pages, size 7X^8^ inches, bound 

in cloth, design in colors, $1.25. 

THE "Great Cities of the Ancient World" com- 
prises the ancient monarchies, ending with the 
great empires of Greece and Rome, and delineates 
the people, polity, and pursuits of these bygone ages. 
The interest of the letter-press is greatly enhanced by 
the numerous and appropriate illustrations which lav- 
ishly embellish the chapters. This book, while pro- 
fessedly juvenile, will, nevertheless, from the character 
of its contents, certainly become a standard book of 
its class, and is appropriate for school purposes. 

"The 'Great Cities of the Ancient World,' a com- 
panion volume to the ' Great Cities of the Modern 
World. ' Lifelike descriptions are given of the exter- 
nal aspects and the character of the chief ancient 
towns and cities in the time of their prosperity and 
splendor, and also of the association of such places 
•with persons and events of historical importance." — Courant, Hartford. 

" The illustrations, aiming to represent the cities of antiquity, as they appeared 
at their prime, and the costumes of their inhabitants, are numerous and striking. 
A body of usefulin formation .'''' — New York Sun. 

"A capital book for the young is * Great Cities of the Ancient World,' a spirited 
presentation with pen and with pencil of the striking features of the famous old 
cities, of allusions to which history and literature are full. It is well written and 
very fully and finely illustrated t/irou^hojit. The volume ^\\\ help 3'oung readers 
to a clear idea of what Rome and Athens and Thebes and Damascus and many 
another antique town were really like, and it should be in the library of every 
school boy and school girl. ' ' — Boston Courier. 

" The ' Great Cities of the Ancient World' contains a great deal of information 
— historical, geographical, and biographical. Nearly seventy cities of antiquity 
are described in a lively way, with anecdotes of their noted inhabitants. The book 
is made up with a good deal of care. As a real help to some knowledge of aucient 
history this work has received warm commendation from excellent teachers, and it 
might lighten the tasks of many pupils who do not take kindly to the usual text- 
books of ancient history." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 

"The ' Great Cities of the Ancient World ' gives the latest fruits of antiquarian 
research respecting the principal cities of Italy, Asia Minor, Greece, Egypt, the 
colonies and islands of the Mediterranean Sea, Arabia, Persia, Syria, and Mesopo- 
tamia. By aid of numerous illustrations the young reader is helped to a very satis- 
factory acquaintance with the centres of interest and influence in the ancient 
world."— /d;«r«a/ of Education, Boston- 




D'JIulnoy'$TairyCale$ 

Cbe fairy Cales of 
Countess D'JIulnoy 

Translated by J. R. PLANCHE 

With numerous Illustrations by 

GORDON BROWNE 
and J 2 full-page Colored Plates 

468 pages, 8vo, cloth, with design in colors 
(Gift Series), $2.00 

CONTENTS: 
Gracieuse and Percinet Princess Rosette 

The Fair with Golden Hair The Golden Branch 

The Blue Bird The Bee and the Orange Tree 

Prince Sprite 
The Good Little Mouse 
The Ram 

FiNETTE CeNDRON 

Fortunee 

Babiole 

The Yellow Dwarf 

Green Serpent 

The Princess Carpillon 

The Beneficent Frog 

The Hind in the Wood 

The White Cat 

Belle Belle; or, The Chevalier Fortune 

The Pigeon and the Dove 

Princess Belle. Etoile and Prince Cheri 

Princess Printaniere 

D'Jlulnoy'$ fairy Dk$ 

With numerous Illustrations. 468 pages, 
4to, cloth, with design in colors, $J.50. 

" It is delightful to turn from the earlier, 
mutilated paraphrases of these incomparable 
stories to the fresh, simple, and accurate 
versions of this practical man of letters, who 
was not vain enough to think he could better 
his author." — R. H. Stoddard in N. Y. Mail 
and Express. 

*' The book is a treasure trove for the little 
people." — Boston Traveler. 

" It should be a pleasure as well as the 
duty of parents to see that every well-behaved 
child has a copy; and if they desire a delicate 
literary pastime, they should read it first them- 
selves." — Hartford Courant, 




COUNTtSS U AL'LNUY. 



POLLARD, JOSEPHINK 




The B ible and Its 5tory 

By JOSEPHINE POLLARD 

Author of "The History of the New Testament in Words 

of One Syllable," " History of theOld Testament," 

" Battles of America," etc. 

I2mo, cloth, $L00 

The book comprises 576 pages, size 
6x8 inches. There are 2S0 ilkistrations 
(many of them full-page), of which a com- 
plete list is prefixed to the volume. Especial 
attention is called to the index, which oc- 
cupies 2 3 double-column pages, and contains 
upward of 3,000 analytical references to 
the text. The great fulness of this index will of itself render the 
volume invaluable to all who believe that a familiar knowledge of 
the incidents of the Bible cannot be acquired at too early an age. 

" For though the Bible came from God, it was not given all at 
once in the complete form in which we now have it, but different 
men at different times were each divinely inspired to write a 
portion of it. The first of these was Moses, who lived nearly 
fifteen hundred years before the birth of Jesus. The last was St. 
John, who died a hundred years after the opening of the Christian 
era. During the sixteen hundred years which thus elapsed between 
its commencement and completion, thirty-six men or more were 
moved by the will of God at various periods of time to contribute a 
portion of the great work, and these writers employed the language 
most familiar to them or to the people about them, some using 
Chaldee, some Hebrew, some Greek, and some, perhaps, other 
tongues, of which the Bible to-day shows no trace. It is on account 
of this diverse authorship that the name of Scriptures is so generally 
applied to the Bible, scriptures being the Latin term for voritings. 
And as each part of the Scriptures is called a book^ the whole of 
them taken together were called by the Greek naine for books, which 
is Bible. The words Holy and Sacred are often placed before 
Bible and Scriptures to show the divine origin of the volume. " — 
Extract from Introductory Chapter. 

. This volume has been published to assist parents, guardians, 
and teachers, in the religious instruction of those under their chaige, 
by enabling them to place in the hands of children a book which 



THE BIBLE AND ITS STORT 

would reverently tell the Biblical story without sectarian bias. 
The one object that has been kept steadily in view throughout its 
preparation has been to present a connected narrative of the sacred 
events, consecutively arranged in the order of their occurrences, 
and described in such clear and simple language as could be easily 
understood by youthful readers. It is, however, believed that no 
more complete and accurate recital of scriptural history has ever 
before been made for the use of the young. 

Mrs. Josephine Pollard, the well-known popular writer for 
children, has put some of her best work into this beautiful book. 
She has taken the Bible at the first chapter of Genesis and retold 
the wonderful story step by step to the last chapter of Revelation. 
It has been to the writer evidently a labor of love. She enlists the 
reader's interest at once, and holds it to the end. Children will 
find it as fascinating as a fairy book. It is simplicity itself; yet, 
with all its simplicity, it is not childish. Persons of mature years 
delight in its pages, while the aged pilgrim lingers with delight 
over the clearly printed pages and the instructive and inspiring 
pictures. The Bible student also need not disdain the book. He 
will not fail to detect a high degree of literary art and accurate 
scholarship lying behind all this simplicity. The opening chapter 
will furnish a vast amount of information about the history of the 
Bible. There is also a valuable chapter giving a concise epitome 
of the Apocryphal books. 




FACSIMILE OF COVKR. 



Young Folks' 
Life of Jesus Christ 

By JOSEPHINE POLLARD 

Author of "History of the Old Testament in Words oi 

One Syllable," " History of the New Testament 

in Words of One Syllable," " Battles 

>f America in Words of One 

Syllable," "The Bible 

and Its Story," 

etc. 

With 56 full=page and numerous x^^X 
illustrations 

Size 5% X 7% inches 

410 pages, bound in cloth, with design 
as here represented, $1.00 



WHITLEY, MRS. MARY 






6^7. 



C\)erp (BixV^ 3SooIv of ^port, (J^cmpatiott 



anti pastime. 



Edited by Mrs. Mary Whitney. Size 6«4' x %^, 500 pp., 
fully illustrated and substantially bound in cloth, $2.00. 



CONTENTS. 




The Needi,ework Guii.d, 
by II. R.II. Princess Mary 
Adelaide, Duchess of Teck. 

Work Among the Poor, 
by Lady Jeune. 

The Girls' Sanctum, by 
Mrs. Rentoul Esler. 

Work, by Mrs. Conyers 
Morell. 

GirIvS in Society, by 
Lady Jeune. 

Home Studies — Music — 
Drawing and Painting — 
Painting in Oils — Painting in 
Water Colors — Landscape 
Painting — Costume — 
Thoughts on Reading — Pho- 
tography — Wood Carving — 
Fretwork — Chip Carving — 
Embossed Leather Work. 

Outdoor Occupations and Amusements — Riding — Driving — Cycling- 
Rowing— Swimming — Skating — Gardening — Dairy Farming — Golf — Lawn Tennis 
— Cozari — Croquet — Cricket — Badminton — Games of Ball — Egyptian and Indian 
Games — Archery — Rubbing Brasses — Church Decorations — Domestic Pets — The 
World of Flowers— Shells of the Seashore — Seaweeds — Games for the Little 
Ones Out-of-Doors. 

Indoor Occupations and Amusements — Collections — Illumination — 
The Arrangement of Flowers — Imitation of Indian Cabinets— Home Teaching — 
Servants, and How to Treat Them— Pyrography, or Poker Painting— Marquetry 
and Intarsia Painting— Evening Amusements — Tableaux Vivants— Hints on 
Recitation — Home Theatricals— Dancing — Simple Home Gymnastics— Fencing 
—The Aquarium — Nursing the Sick— Cookery — Useful Receipts — Games for 
the Little Ones Indoors — Games for the Older Girls Indoors — Dolls and Dolls' 
Houses — How to Dress Tastefully —Table Games — Songs for the Children— 
List of Books for Reference — Index. ' ' 



\ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRES 




IK 



0011 410 1564 



r ^•. 



